Physician Heal Thyself
by EvaMcBain2009
Summary: A criminal profiler is brought in to assist the NCIS team to catch a serial killer who is targeting Navy Officers. Will sparks fly between Agent Callen and the beautiful profiler.
1. Chapter 1

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF

Authors note: I've decided to rework the first chapter as I was not really happy with the finished work. I've decided to make Jordan a visiting profiler rather than have her take over Nate Getz's job. The premise will still be the same. Sparks will fly between Callen and Jordan. I should have the reworked chapter up tonight. Thanks for your patience.


	2. Chapter 2

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF

I own nothing so please don't sue. The only character that's mine is Jordan Harris. Hope you enjoy the reworked chapter. Part 2 coming soon.

_CALLEN_

Agent G. Callen strode into the OSP headquarters on a beautiful, sunny morning. Looking around, he saw that it was a flurry of activity with people getting on with their duties for the day. Adjusting the duffle on his shoulder, he headed for the coffee table to get some tea. Grabbing one of the regulation Styrofoam cups, he then poured in the hot water and added the vanilla chi tea bag to steep. Now he just needed to get the agave nectar that he "borrowed" from Hetty and had squirreled away in the gym.

Entering the bull-pen he watched as Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks seemed to be having one of their usual arguments. Kensi was seated with her booted feet on top of her desk eating one of her breakfast burritos.

Deeks sat watching her with his arms folded across his chest and a disgusted expression on his face. He was dressed in his usual ripped jeans, white tank underneath an open plaid shirt. Callen thought he looked more like a beach bum than a police liaison. Kensi at least dressed a little better with a light blue short sleeved shirt and clean jeans.

"I'm telling you Kens, you're one breakfast burrito away from a bypass," Deeks remarked with a shake of his shaggy blond head.

Kensi finished off the last bite then proceeded to crumple up the paper. Eyeing the waste paper basket that sat about a foot from the desk, she tossed the paper into the can with a perfect shot.

"And she scores!" Kensi said doing victory arms.

Deeks just rolled his eyes.

"Why are you concerned about my eating habits anyway, Deeks? Besides, I only eat those things once in a while."

"I don't want you keeling over in the street on me during a mission. I need my partner to be strong and healthy to watch my back out there. Try some granola or a fruit smoothie in the mornings. Your heart and intestines will thank you.

"Ewww, Deeks! Number one, I don't like granola. Number two, fruit smoothies are gross and number 3. Just…just stay out of my intestines!" she grimaced.

Callen chuckled at the exchange, "Don't blame you Kensi, not much for the bark and twigs stuff either. But, Deeks does have a point. Those things will kill you."

"So says the man that eats bacon for dessert," laughed Agent Sam Hanna as he dropped into the chair at his desk.

Callen dumped his bag next to his own desk before replying in a slightly offended tone, "My diet's not that bad!"

"Do you eat vegetables? Do you even know what a vegetable looks like," Sam smirked, picking up a newspaper.

Callen just rolled his eyes as he down in his chair. He was about to take a sip of his tea when something caught the corner of his eye. Groaning silently he put the untouched tea down.

There it was; just lying there so innocently next to his inbox. It was mocking him, like some foul demon from the depths of hell, the quarterly team review report.

Stretching his shoulders, he picked up the offending file and glanced through the pages. He had a good team. They were all good at their jobs. There was nothing to criticize them about.

Well, maybe Deeks could be a little annoying with his jokes and constant media references. Kensi could definitely use a refresher course in driving. Sam could maybe ease up on the bad cop routine. But, aside from that he had an A number one team.

"You know, those reports aren't that bad," Sam chuckled.

Callen glanced at his partner and best friend, "That's easy for you to say. Hetty never has you do one of these things."

"Look, we're all adults here and we can take constructive criticism if it makes us better agents," said Sam. After a moment he continued, "Be gentle with Deeks though, he's a crier," he finished with a smirk at said agent.

"Hey!"

Their conversation was interrupted by a shrill whistle. The agents looked up to see NCIS Technical Operator Eric Beal standing at the top of the stairs.

"Everyone up to OP's; we've got a case!"

The team rose up from their seats to head upstairs.

OPS:

"Our victim is Ensign Mark Sully, age 26," Nell Jones said.

The four agents were milled around the room listening as Nell went to the smart screen and used her fingers to make the picture of the victim larger.

A photograph showed a young man in standard naval uniform. His dark brown hair was high and tight; his dark eyes stared forward. A life full of promise cut short.

"He was scheduled to ship out for his second tour on the SS Halifax 3 days ago but didn't show up for duty. Then last night his body was found in the back ally of the Sandstone bar and grill," she continued as she used her fingers to pull up another photo.

"Someone really didn't like that guy," Deeks gulped in response.

"There goes breakfast," said Kensi quietly shuddering at the gruesome photo that showed Mark Sully lying on the ground. Both his eyes and his tongue had been brutally mutilated.

"According to the coroner's report, the victim's eyes had been burned out, practically liquefied probably from some toxic chemical. The tongue was pierced and set on fire."

"Was there anything found at the crime scene?" Callen asked, his face not betraying his feelings on what he saw.

"No. Whoever did this was methodical and didn't leave any evidence behind. There were also no witnesses."

"Any family," asked Sam.

"He has a brother, Kevin Sully. He works as a mechanic," Nell finished.

Once Callen and Sam got the needed addresses, they left the room.

Later that day:

Callen and the rest of the team met back in Ops.

"According to the victim's brother, he was a standup guy who'd always wanted to be in the Navy," said Callen as he crossed his arms and leaned against the table.

"Same with his C.O. Mark Sully had no beef with anyone and was a good sailor and was up for a promotion." Sam said before adding, "Sully and a few of his ship buddies went to the bar to celebrate before shipping out the next day. That was the last any of them had seen him."

"Did you find anything at the bar?" Callen questioned both Kensi and Deeks.

"The bartender said that Sully came with some other guys and had a few beers at the bar at about 8:30 that night," which corroborated what Sam had just told them. "They appeared to be having a good time. They left about two hours later." Kensi said.

"Sully still had his personal affects so robbery wasn't a motive," Callen sighed as he looked once again at the crime scene photos.

"Why would someone do something like that to the body," Kensi said to no one in particular.

"Gang initiation maybe? Or some sort of cult thing," answered Sam. "You never know."

"Back to square one," said Callen.

Next Day:

"Morning, Kensi," Callen said, looking up from his completed report.

"Hey Callen. Morning Sam," Kensi answered as she took her seat. Sam gave her a nod in response.

"Morning all!" Deeks called out as he entered the bull-pen.

"You seem chipper this morning. Have a good night last night?" Kensi responded with a raised eyebrow.

"I had a delightful evening with two lovely ladies."

"Two? Playing it dangerously aren't you?" Sam replied in a tone that seemed mixed with a little disapproval and a touch of awe.

"He means he sat on the couch with a carton of ice cream and watched Beaches," Kensi interjected, grinning at her partner evilly.

Deeks was about to retort when Callen stopped him, "O.K. children, behave," he said, chuckling. "Have any of you guys seen Hetty?"

"No," said Sam, shaking his head.

"Not me," said Kensi.

Deeks looked across the room, "There she is. She's talking to someone."

Callen looked in the direction Deeks indicated. There was a woman, who had her back to them, who seemed to be in a deep conversation with Hetty. She turned around and both she and Hetty started walking toward them.

"Wow," Deeks stage whispered as the team rose from their seats. Kensi elbowed him in the ribs, "Down boy."

As the mystery woman moved closer to them, Callen saw that she was tall. At least 5'7 or 5'8 with a slender, athletic build dressed in tan slacks and a white blouse that complimented her smooth café au lait complexion. Her dark hair was up in a loose pony tail.

"Good morning everyone." Hetty intoned, "Let me introduce Ms. Jordan Harris, a criminal profiler. She just got in from Seattle and..."

Hetty was interrupted by one of the interns who whispered something in her ear. Nodding, she turned her attention back to the group, "I apologize, and I must take a call from Director Vance. I'll leave you to the introductions." With that, she turned on her heels and left.

"Well that was nice and awkward," Jordan said with wry grin.

"Guess I'll start, senior agent G. Callen."

She turned her beautiful, hazel eyed gaze on him, "G?" her tone questioning.

"Just G," he smirked.

A faint grin passed briefly on her sensuous lips at that, "Nice to meet you, just G."

The rest of the team introduced themselves.

"Why are you here exactly? Seattle is a long way from here," Callen said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"My boss received a message that you guys had a homicide victim with liquefied eyes and a burned out tongue. I think we may be searching for the same person. I have something I think you should see."

"Let's head up to OPS," Callen responded as they all headed up the stairs.

Jordan stood at the smart screen while the other agents listened.

"I'm going to load up my pictures from my phone into your computer," looking at Eric she said, "Could you upload the pictures please."

Once everything was uploaded, she used her fingers to make the picture of Mark Sully bigger. Then she moved down the other pictures; making them larger as well. The homicide pictures of the victims Jordan brought were just as gruesome as Mark Sully. All 7 of them had burned out eyes and tongue.

"The interesting thing is all the victims were enlisted people in the Navy. It's the same M.O. with all of them. No witnesses and not a trace of evidence left behind. We've been after this killer for a while. After his sixth victim, he went underground. There were no more killings for 6 years…until now," Jordan finished.

"So, you think he's come here?" Callen asked.

"It's possible. That's why I'm here. I've worked very closely on this case and know how this guy operates. If it is the same guy, we need to stop him and fast," she finished.

"Uh…guys? Another body's been found. Eyes and tongue burned," Eric gulped.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

"Lt. Phillip Walsh, age 40, was a navy reservist who had done two tours aboard the USS Challenger. He was given the Navy's Medal of Honor for heroism for saving the lives of several of his fellow crewmen when their ship was attacked by rebel forces in the Middle East." Nell said, pulling up Walsh's Picture.

The Lt. stared out at them dressed in his naval uniform. He had patrician features and sharp hazel green eyes. Short dark brown hair peeked out from beneath his cap.

The body had been found nearly buried in the sand at Point Dume State Beach. A couple walking their dog had found the remains.

"He'd been a physical therapist at the Navy Medical Center for the past 10 years. Married to Amanda Walsh, no kids," she finished.

"Cause of death?" Callen asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"A crushed trachea. Eyes and tongue mutilated after death, just like the last victim. Also, he'd been dead for about three hours so that would put the time of death at 0700 hours."

"From the position of the body, he was attacked from behind," said Callen, still eyeing the homicide pictures.

"The killer probably used chloroform to subdue the victims before killing them," said Jordan, casting a glance at Callen.

"Sam and I will check out the medical center," said Callen. "Kensi and Deeks can interview Mrs. Walsh."

"Very good, Mr. Callen. However, I think Miss Harris should accompany both you and Mr. Hanna. A fresh pair of eyes so to speak," said Hetty, her penetrating gaze on Callen.

"After you," said Callen letting Jordan ahead of him and Sam from the room.

NAVY MEDICAL CENTER:

Jordan, Callen and Sam stood in front of the director of the Physical Therapy Wing. The room was small, but functional, with a big bay window behind the desk that had a view of the garden. One wall housed a bookshelf with rows of medical journals and text books. The other side was a table with a computer. On the wall above the computer was a framed group photograph of the P.T. staff.

Lt. Commander Franklin was a tall, reed thin, African American man in his mid-50s. He had an air of authority about him from his suit to his spit shine shoes. His salt and pepper hair was cut military style short. Slate gray eyes peered out at them from behind wire framed glasses.

"It's a terrible tragedy what's happen to Lt. Walsh. Great man and great sailor." Franklin said, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose."

"Did Lt. Walsh have any run ins with anyone. Anyone he was having problems with?" Callen asked.

"Not that I recall. He was greatly respected and an exceptional physical therapist."

"Did Lt. Walsh seem anxious at all, like he was being threatened?" Jordan asked.

"No. The pressures of this job can get to you, but if he were having any problems he didn't show it," Walsh said, pausing for a moment before continuing, "You should speak with Lt. Neil Munsey and Chief Earl C. Collins. They were colleagues and friends of Lt. Walsh. "

They met with Munsey Collins in the lobby of the front entrance. It was mostly empty except for the receptionist who was busy at the phones.

Both Lt. Munsey and Chief Collins were in their mid to late 30s and at least 6 feet 2 inches tall with a lean muscular build. The two men were dressed similarly in hospital scrubs. Where Munsey had short, curly red hair and green eyes, Collins was completely bald with dark nearly black eyes.

"I can't believe anyone would hurt Philip," Munsey said, his green eyes looking wet under the glare of the halogen lights. His tag identified him as hospital counselor, while Collins was a physical therapist.

"So, he didn't seem anxious or nervous like he was being threatened by someone. No strange calls or someone stalking him?" Sam asked, studying both men closely.

"No. He seemed like he always was, very laid back." said Collins, "Really hope you catch the person who did this."

"Thank you for your time and sorry for your loss," Callen said before the three of them left the medical center.

"I think we have the beginnings a little romance brewing with those two," Deeks said, his attention focused on the scenery ahead.

Kensi gave her partner a side long glance while keeping her hands firmly on the wheel. She knew she'd regret asking, "Romance where and who are you talking about?"

"Callen and Jordan. Didn't you see the two of them in Ops today? The air was crackling with sexual tension. They kept giving each other surreptitious glances," Deeks finished with a satisfied expression.

Kensi's jaw dropped as she turned her head to stare incredulously at Deeks, "What!"

"Watch where you're going!" Deeks called out, grabbing the wheel to bring the car back into their lane.

Kensi brought her attention back to the road in front of her, taking a deep breath before saying, "Ok. I didn't notice anything crackling or otherwise. And surreptitious glances?"

"Yes, surreptitious, it's a word," Deeks replied.

"I know it's a word. I'm just surprised you know it," she smirked, before parking in front of the Walsh house.

"Ha. Ha. Laugh all you want but mark my words, they'll be the Bragelina of OSP," Deeks finished, opening the door the exit the car. Kensi opened her door and just gave him an eye roll.

Amanda Walsh was a petite, attractive, thin blond in her early 40s dressed in a pink, long sleeved peasant blouse and long flowered skirt. Her hair was cut in a short, messy bob style. Her pale blue eyes were red rimmed as if from crying earlier.

"Mrs. Walsh? I'm Agent Blye and this is Officer Deeks. We'd like to talk to you about your husband," said Kensi as she and Deeks showed their badges.

She studied the badges and then let them inside. Amanda Walsh led them to the right of the front entrance into the spacious living room.

A cream colored sofa sat in front of a large bay window with lacy curtains. A worn coffee table lay between the sofa and the two arm chairs.

Amanda sat in one of the armchairs and motioned them to sit on the couch.

"We're sorry for your loss," Kensi said gently.

"Thank you. It…It's all such a shock. What do you need to ask me?"

"Had your husband been anxious at all? Anyone he was having problems with?" Deeks asked, taking in the photograph on the coffee table.

"No, not really. Phillip got along with everyone," Amanda said, pausing for a moment before continuing, "He did seem a little distracted this morning before he went on his run. Philip always likes…liked to run to clear his head."

"I see," Kensi replied also looking at that same photograph. It was group shot of Lt. Walsh and two other men.

"That was taken at a benefit picnic a few years ago. Those two worked with Philip at the medical center. He's the counselor there," Amanda said, pointing to the tall red haired man. "And he's one of the physical therapists," indicating the bald man with very dark eyes. "They were really good friends, actually they both started working at the center with him at about the same time."

"Thank you for your time. And again, sorry for your loss," said Kensi rising from the couch at the same time as Deeks.

"Please find who killed my husband."

HOTEL ROOM:

Jordan wearily entered the room at midnight. Securing the locks on the door, she turned and moved toward the bed where she tossed her duffle bag. Shrugging off her jacket and placing it on the chair that was by the widow, she removed her badge, placing it on the night table. She then took her gun and laid it beside the badge. She'd only had time to pack a few things after she'd gotten the call about the case. If she needed anything else, she'd just go shopping.

After unpacking and putting the duffle in the closet, she headed for the bathroom. Taking the band from her hair, she shook out her shoulder length, dark auburn brown hair. Getting the water temperature just right, she stepped in under the spray. She stood for a moment, letting the warm water sluice over her tired achy muscles. After showering and washing her hair with the hotel shampoo, she stepped out and grabbed a towel to dry off.

Walking back into the bedroom, she slipped on her sleep pants and tank that she had laid out on the bed. Pulling the top spread down, she sat cross legged on the bed as the day's events ran through her mind.

She thought back to the people she's met at OSP. Ms. Hetty Lang was a powerful woman in a small package. She seemed to lead with a firm hand but Jordan sensed that Hetty also had affection for those on the team.

Sam Hanna was every inch the Navy Seal from the top of his head to the tips of his shoes. It was the way he carried himself, his stance, and how he seemed to be sizing up the situation.

Her ex-husband Derek had been a Navy Seal too, so she recognized the qualities. It was those same qualities that made him a good J.A.G. lawyer. Too bad that didn't extend to being a faithful husband.

Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks. Jordan didn't have a handle on them yet but they seemed like capable agents.

Then her mind went to "just G" Callen. There was a mystery. What was the deal with him having just a letter for a name? Did he hate his first name that much? From what she'd seen, he seemed smart, shrewd. They all did; they seemed to be the kind of team she'd want watching her back.

Callen was definitely an attractive man, very attractive, with the most magnetic blue eyes she'd ever seen.

A sad smile formed as she wondered what Rachel would think…

May 1994: Ohio

"_Come on slow poke!" Jordan teased her twin sister who lagged a few steps behind. They were at the park, that wasn't far from their apartment, for their morning jog. The sun was bright and the sky was clear with a warm gentle breeze._

_Please! Let's take a break," Rachel said breathlessly, catching up to Jordan._

_Deciding to take mercy on her sister, Jordan led Rachel to a bench she spotted a few feet away. When they both sat down, Jordan pulled out two bottles of water for them from her backpack._

_ "Thanks," said Rachel, taking the bottle and twisting the cap off._

_ "Anytime," Jordan replied, taking a long pull from her own bottle._

_ "Police Academy, huh?" Rachel said, turning to face her sister._

_Both of them had just graduated from college a few weeks ago. Jordan with a degree in psychology and criminology minor. Rachel received her BA. In art history._

_Jordan looked into the face of her sister that was exactly like her own, "Yeah. I know it comes as a shock…" _

_ "That's an understatement," Rachel chuckled, "You know, I think dad had visions of you becoming a lawyer and the two of you starting the law firm of Harris and Harris."_

_ "I love dad, but I think me being a lawyer was more his dream than mine." Jordan had started out pre-law but had taken a criminology course during her first year and was hooked. "Also, after the Academy there are lots of career opportunities." Jordan finished._

_ "Sounds like you have everything planned out," Rachel smiled, "So, when do you go to the Academy and for how long?"_

_ "June 7th and for six months," Jordan replied, taking another sip of water._

_ "Will have to throw you a party before you go. Might be kind of cool having a cop for a sister. You can get me out of speeding tickets," she laughed._

_ "Stop it!" Jordan laughed, giving Rachel a playful punch on the shoulder._

_Rachel turned serious, "Be careful out there, when you're out catching the bad guys."_

_ "I will" Jordan replied, throwing her arms around her sister for a tight hug._

_ "Love you, Jordy girl."_

_Jordan laughed at the use of the old nickname, "Love you too. Come on, race you down to the diner for some breakfast!"_

_ "Let's go!" Rachel replied rising up to get a head start._

_ "Hey! No cheating!"_

Hotel room:

Jordan snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes. Sleep claimed her immediately. The dreams came as they have been for the past few years. The faces of the victims, calling out to her to help them. This time the dream was a little different, a new face appeared. A man with buzz cut dark blond hair and magnetic blue eyes.

TBC.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Wanted to set up the case and a little of Jordan's back story. Next chapter will have lots of Callen and Jordan. Chapter 3 coming soon!


	4. Chapter 4

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF PART 3

AN: Edited to make a few changes.

OPS:

Sam and Callen entered the darkened tech room and saw that Jordan, Deeks and Kensi were already there. As they all greeted each other, Callen noticed that Jordan was dressed in black slacks and a starched, light blue button down shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Her hair was loose and fell in dark waves to her shoulders. The only makeup she wore was a touch of color on her luscious lips. She was the sexiest woman in the room.

"Anyone know what this meeting is about?" Callen asked, shaking himself out of those thoughts.

"You all will know soon enough, Mr. Callen," Hetty said, entering the room with Assistant Director Owen Granger walking behind her looking cool and efficient in a charcoal gray suit.

"Mr. Granger, you have the floor," said Hetty, before Granger moved in front of the smart board.

_Great, there goes my morning._ Callen thought, his mood souring, as Granger stood in front of the group. Granger set his reptilian eyes on Jordan.

"I see we have a new face," Granger said, his expression blank.

"Jordan Harris, sir." She started, before Granger moved closer to where she was standing.

"I know who you are, Miss Harris. Your boss, who I just got off the phone with, speaks very highly of you. He says that you're one of the FBI's best agents and an excellent profiler." He paused for a moment, as if sizing her up. "We'll see if you live up to the hype. You're familiar with this serial killer case I see."

Callen watched the exchange between Granger and Jordan. If she'd been affected by Granger's little dig, he certainly couldn't tell.

"Yes sir," Jordan replied, "We'd been tracking this killer who'd been targeting Navy officers in the Seattle area. The killings started in late 2006 and inexplicably stopped in the spring of 2007. He went through a 6 year cooling off period before starting up again here a few days ago.

Walking up to the smart board, she enlarged the pictures of the victims that Nell had uploaded.

"The main thread connecting these victims is that they were enlisted in the Navy. But why target them? Looking at the nature of the horrific injuries that the victims suffered, it appears that the killer is punishing them, debasing them, and making them less than human. This person is angry; he wants to hurt his victims. So the profile is a male between the ages of 25 to 35 with an above average I.Q. He is probably able to blend in and behave normally within mainstream society. He is most likely unmarried and unable to form stable relationships."

"Any leads with our latest victim, Lt. Phillip Walsh?" Granger asked.

As Callen relayed what was learned at the Navy Medical Center, Eric uploaded the pictures of Walsh, and his two friends Lt. Neil Munsey and Chief Earl C. Collins.

"Mrs. Walsh had a picture of the three of them that had been taken a few years ago. She said that both Lt. Munsey and Chief Collins had started working there at the same time," said Kensi.

"According to their files, they both started working there six years ago," said Nell, after a moment she continued, "No criminal records for either of them. Lt. Munsey is divorced and has two children. Chief Collins is also single."

"Mrs. Walsh did say that Lt. Walsh seemed a little distracted on the day he died. He would go for a run on that part of the beach to clear his head." Deeks added.

"I'd keep my eye on Lt. Munsey and Chief Collins, could still be something there. Let's catch this killer before he goes underground for another six years." Granger said, before he turned to leave. He stopped suddenly and moved closer to Jordan again. "I thought the name sounded familiar…London, the Jameson case…Your sister, right?"

"Yes sir," Jordan replied quietly; her eyes locked with Granger's.

"Tragic situation," Granger said, before giving a quick nod and heading out of OPS.

When Granger had gone, Callen broke the silence, "Sam and I'll check out Lt. Walsh's office; might find some clues there."

* * *

"Okay, out with it," Sam said, before merging into the next lane.

"Out with what?" Callen replied, turning his head face his partner.

"I can hear you thinking all the way over here, it's starting to get distracting," replied Sam with a slight grin.

"Just thinking about the case," Callen said, returning his attention on the view ahead.

"It's a nasty one. Hope we catch this guy soon."

"Me too," Callen replied.

After a few more minutes of silence, Sam spoke again, "That Granger is a piece of work."

"Don't understand why we still have to deal with him. But, Hetty seems to trust the guy," Callen replied.

"Uh huh. Seemed to have it in for Jordan a little too," said Sam as he made a turn into the exit. "So, what do you think about her?"

"Who? Jordan? Seems nice I guess. Very bright and capable at her job."

"That's it?" Sam asked, casting a sidelong glance at Callen.

"Uh…yeah?" Callen replied, wondering where Sam was going with this.

"So, you don't think she's hot?"

A smirk formed on Callen's lips, "You're a married man Sam."

"Married, not dead." Sam answered with a grin of his own.

Callen chuckled before replying, "Yes, Jordan is very beautiful, intelligent and everything." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Wait a minute…are you trying to set me up? Do we need to have the 'you're my partner not my mother' speech again?" Callen finished, sounding a little annoyed.

"I just think it would be nice if you were in a relationship. You're alone all the time." Sam said, as they neared the Medical Center.

"But, I'm not lonely. You know my rule, I don't date cops and if they own their own handcuffs I'm out of there."

Sam pulled the challenger into the parking slot, "G, It's ok to break the rules sometimes. You never know, she could be different. She's not Tracy."

"Drop it Sam," Callen said as the both exited the car, his tone indicating the subject was closed.

"Whatever you say man," replied Sam, raising his hands in surrender.

* * *

Lt. Walsh's Office:

The soft hum of the halogen light was the only sound in the small, windowless room. Cool air was pumped inside by the vent on the ceiling. The desk that sat in the center of the room was cluttered with files and books.

A flat screened, desk top computer sat in the center and a regulation phone on the right corner. The screen had a few post-it notes attached. On the left corner was a photo of Lt. Walsh and his wife.

A bookshelf was behind the desk and housed a few physical therapy books as well as the Lieutenant's degree in physical therapy.

On the left side of the bookshelf was a filing cabinet.

The stark white walls were unadorned except for one wall that had a poster of a Navy officer.

Callen looked around the room before muttering, "Think I'd go nuts being cooped up in here all day"

"You and me both," agreed Sam with a grimace.

Callen sat at the desk in front of the computer and Sam stood at his side, leaning over as they went through Walsh's computer; the only thing found was a weekly calendar of who he was working with on a particular day. There was a notation for April 5th, to meet with Lt. Commander Dale Fortmill. Walsh was murdered the day before the meeting.

"Could mean something," Sam said, straightening to a standing position.

Callen went to his phone and put a call through to Eric at OPS. "Eric, need information about a Lt. Commander Dale Fortmill."

"On it," the technical operator/ intelligence analyst said over the loud speaker.

After a brief moment, Eric's voice came over the speaker again, "Lt. Commander Dale Fortmill, 50 years old and a 32 year veteran of the Navy. Did tours in Afghanistan and Iraq. C.O. of the USS Curts.

"Thanks Eric. Can you give us a number?" Sam asked.

"Let's see what that meeting was about," Callen said once he received the contact information.

* * *

"Are you two the guys investigating Lt. Walsh's death?"

Both Callen and Sam, who had just stepped out into the hallway, turned in the direction of the voice.

"Yes. NCIS," Callen replied, as both he and Sam showed their badges to the man standing in front of them.

"Lt. Dan Franklin, Sirs," he said, shaking both their hands.

Dan Franklin looked to be about 35 years old and six feet tall with a thin, wiry build dressed in a hospital worker's uniform. A prominent adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. His dark brown hair was close cropped which made his big ears stand out even more, and earnest brown eyes stared out at them from beneath heavy brows.

"Such a shame what happened to Lt. Walsh. He was a great guy."

"Were you friends with the victim?" Callen asked.

"Not close friends but he was always cool with me when I worked with him. I work here part time and help with filing and other stuff."

"Did Lt. Walsh seem anxious at all in the weeks leading up to his death? Was he having any problems with anyone?" Sam asked.

Franklin lifted his arm to run his hand through his hair. That action caused his sleeve to drop down slightly, revealing a forearm that was completely burned. He saw the agents looking at the wound and self-consciously pulled the sleeve down.

"A present from my time at Fullusha," he said wryly, "No, he seemed fine. Though there was something a few weeks ago. It was probably nothing."

"What happened?" Callen asked.

"I was here working late and I was walking past Lt. Walsh's office. He and Officer Collins seemed to be having an argument. It looked really heated."

"Did you hear what they were arguing about?" Sam asked.

"No. The only thing I heard was Officer Collins yelling I've had it with you, and then he stormed out of the office. Then a few days later they seemed friendly with each other again. Officer Collins is a good guy and it was probably nothing."

Callen and Sam gave each other a brief look.

"Does the name Lt. Commander Dale Fortmill mean anything to you?" Callen asked.

"No? Should it," Franklin replied, looking from Callen to Sam.

"No. Thank you for the information and sorry for your loss." Sam replied.

"Wish I could do more. Lt. Walsh was a great guy and a hero! He saved people's lives on that ship when it was attacked and has helped so many people here at the center. He didn't deserve this, any of this. I hope you find the killer soon," Franklin finished, his face etched with grief.

"We're working on it. Here's a card with my number if you can think of anything else. Again, sorry for your loss," Callen replied.

Lt. Franklin took the card and just gave a brief nod before turning on his heel to leave.

Chief Collins was off from work so they weren't able to question him. The agents then headed back to headquarters.

* * *

Bullpen:

"…Thank you for your help sir," Callen said, before hanging up the phone with a sigh. "Well that turned up nothing. Lt. Commander Fortmill did remember speaking with Lt. Walsh and arranging a meeting. He said that Lt. Walsh wanted to discuss an important matter, something odd that he'd discovered but couldn't do it over the phone. He didn't say what it was or why it was so important."

"There's something there. Just have to keep looking," Sam said with determination.

* * *

Later that evening:

Callen looked up from his report, checking his watch he saw that it was 9:00pm. Sam had left to go home about an hour earlier something about a parent teacher conference he had to attend. Looked like everyone else had left too. He thought back to the events of the day, to that little exchange between Granger and Jordan. What happened in London? How was her sister involved?

Pushing his chair back, he stood up and stretched. He felt a little hungry, maybe there was something in the kitchen. Moving toward the stairs, he noticed that a light seemed to be on in the OPS room. He'd thought Nell and Eric had already left. He strode up the stairs to investigate.

OPS:

Callen entered the inner sanctum; the only other person in the room was Jordan. She was standing with her back against the island table, studying the smart board that had the pictures of each of the victims.

"Agent Callen," she said, turning her head to look at him, "Looks like I'm not the only one whose a workaholic," with a slight grin before turning her attention back to the screen.

"You can call me Callen," he replied, moving closer to stand next to her.

"Okay, Callen," she replied, her voice soft and melodious. She was quiet for a moment before continuing, "What are we missing here? I've looked at these pictures so many times, trying to find that common thread. We almost caught him, right after the last victim and he just slipped through our fingers."

"We'll get him. Just can't let the case get to you or it can and will consume you."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," Jordan said, casting a side glance at him.

"Something like that," he replied with a smirk, glancing back at her.

"I want to catch this guy. To give these people some peace; their families some peace…closure. Nothing's worse than not having that closure, knowing that the killer is still out there." Jordan said.

Callen watched her for a moment, had seen a flash of pain in her eyes after her statement. Had her own sister been murdered?

"Okay, that's it for tonight. I'm going to go have some dinner and just go to sleep," Jordan announced, "What time is it anyway?

"Almost 9:30," Callen said, shutting down the computers.

"Goodnight Callen. See you in the morning." Jordan said with a smile.

"Goodnight."

* * *

Bullpen:

Callen had grabbed a leftover slice of pizza from the fridge in the kitchen. Taking a bite, he put the finishing touches on his report.

Suddenly Jordan came storming in not 5 minutes after she had just walked out of the door.

"What's going on?" Callen asked concerned.

"Stupid Rent-A-Car won't start," Jordan replied with annoyance, pushing numbers on her phone, "Ugh! Stupid office is closed!"

Callen and Jordan went out to check her car. He tried the ignition and the motor just sputtered. He checked under the hood and it looked like there was a problem with the battery.

"Oh great," Jordan said with a frown.

"I can drive you back to the hotel," Callen said.

"Don't want to put you out. I can call a cab."

"No, it's fine, really." Callen insisted.

* * *

Callen put his things in his duffle, hoisted it on his shoulder and led Jordan back outside to where his jaguar was parked.

Jordan gave a low whistle of appreciation, "Nice ride," she said opening the passenger side door and slipping into the seat. Settling comfortably into the seat, she closed the door and put on her seatbelt.

"Thanks," Callen replied, slipping into the driver's side and buckling his own seatbelt.

The drive to the hotel was filled with mostly small talk and discussing the California weather which Jordan said was better than Seattle.

* * *

"What's going on here?" said Callen, as they neared the hotel. There were two police cruisers and an ambulance near the entrance. Two uniformed officers where holding back the crowd. Callen pulled the car into the parking slot. Both he and Jordan got out of the car and headed for the entrance, showing their badges to the officers.

As they got closer, two paramedics came out carrying a woman dressed in housekeeping uniform on a gurney. The woman was unconscious and had her head wrapped up in a bandage. Entering the hotel they were met by a very nervous looking night manager, whose nametag identified his as Mitch Walden.

"What happened?" Jordan asked.

"Ms. Harris I'm so sorry, nothing like this has ever happened before. We'll reimburse you for your room and everything."

"The victim was attacked in her room?" Callen said, indicating Jordan.

"Yes. Poor thing was discovered by her assistant about an hour ago. I do hope she'll be alright," Walden said.

"I hope so too," Jordan said, as both she and Callen made their way to her room.

Getting off the elevator and making a right at the hallway, they found room 216. The door was already open when they entered. The room had been trashed. What clothes Jordan had brought with her was strewn all over the floor. On the wall over the bed, someone had scrawled in big red letters

'Catch me if you can'

"Son of a bitch!" Jordan ground out

"What?" Callen said, tearing his eyes from the message on the wall and gazed at Jordan.

"It's him. He knows I'm here."


	5. Chapter 5

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF PART 4

NCIS LA and characters is the property of Shane Brennan. The only character that's mine is Jordan Harris.

OSP Computer Area:

Callen, Jordan and Sam stood around Nell's chair as she replayed the surveillance camera footage from the hotel. Kensi and Deeks were at the hospital checking on the victim.

Jordan watched as the images on the screen went by. Last night was a blur, with waiting for the CSI team to make a sweep for any fingerprints or trace evidence to contacting the hospital to check on the victim whose name they found out was Maria Sanchez, she had suffered a concussion and was resting comfortably.

Once Jordan had been given the ok, she had grabbed her belongings and stuffed them into her bag. She'd have to find somewhere else to stay.

Her mind went back to that scrawled message. She'd been freaked out at first, then that gave way to anger. She was going to catch that sick bastard if that was the last thing she ever did.

"Has the killer ever made contact like this before?" Callen asked, turning his gaze to Jordan.

"There were a few cryptic notes here and there to the police and FBI but, this is the first time he's ever contacted me directly," she replied, glancing at the man beside her. After leaving the hotel, she and Callen had come back to headquarters. He had to be exhausted. She wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all. She had managed to get a couple of hours on the couch in the office they'd let her use.

"Looks like he's upping the game a little; wants to get your attention," Sam replied, eyes on the computer screen.

"Well, he's got it," Jordan replied.

"Here we go," Nell said, as the screen showed Maria pushing the cleaning cart to the door of room 216. She knocked on the door first before using her master key to enter, leaving the door ajar. The time at the right corner showed 5:00pm.

A minute later, another figure appeared. It was someone dressed in black from head to toe. This person was tall and definitely male with long black hair that hid the face. He reached the door and slipped inside. About three minutes later, he slipped out and shut the door behind him and walked away, very careful not to show his face to the camera.

"He's a clever one," Jordan said, her expression grim.

"Can you get anything with facial recognition, Nell?" asked Callen.

"Unfortunately, no. The hair is covering his face too much."

"The hair could be a wig," Jordan said.

"Possible," Nell replied.

"Keep looking, maybe we'll find something," Callen said, as both Kensi and Deeks strolled into the bullpen.

"Find out anything?" Callen asked, as they came closer.

"Maria said that everything happened so fast. She didn't get a good look at his face. All she remembered was long black hair and a flash of the attacker's eyes. Her words were Negro y malo como el diablo," Kensi said.

"Black and evil like the devil," Jordan and Callen said at the same time.

* * *

That afternoon

Interrogation room:

Chief Earl C. Collins sat on one side of the table while Callen sat on the opposite side. Sam stood against the wall behind Callen's chair. Jordan, Kensi and Deeks were in the other room watching the questioning on the monitor.

"I don't understand why I'm here," Collins said, his dark eyed gaze going from Sam to Callen.

"We just need you to answer a few questions," Callen said, leaning forward, with his forearms on the table. "You and Lt. Walsh were pretty close friends?"

"Yeah, we'd hang out and go to see the game sometimes with Munsey."

"No fights? Even the closest friends can have fights sometimes," Sam said from his position at the wall.

"Not really. Maybe a disagreement here and there…"

"We have a witness that says that you and Lt. Walsh were having a pretty heated argument a few weeks back." Callen said.

Collins sat back in his chair with a sigh, "O-Kay, look we did have an argument but we talked it out a few days later and everything was fine."

"What was the fight about? Sam asked.

"Just work stuff. He recommended someone for a position that I'd wanted. He just felt that the other guy was more qualified. Yeah, at the time I was a little pissed. But after thinking about it and talking it out with him I realized it was nothing personal, he just did what he thought was best."

Callen studied the man for a moment, "You weren't at work yesterday? Where were you?"

"I took the day off. I uh…visited a friend." Collins replied.

"Does this friend have a name?" Sam asked.

Collins seemed to hesitate for a second, "Amanda. I was visiting Amanda Walsh."

In the other room Deeks responded with, "Hello. Now it's starting to get interesting." Kensi just rolled her eyes while Jordan chuckled softly and just shook her head.

Back in the interrogation room Callen asked, "How long were you there?"

"I uh…went there around lunch time. I just wanted to make sure she was alright. We talked, about Philip mostly. I didn't leave there until around 10 last night." Collins said. After a brief pause he continued, "Why do you need to know where I was yesterday? Did something happen?"

"Just trying to cover all our bases here," Callen said before getting out of his chair to leave the room.

* * *

"I think he's telling the truth about being with Amanda Walsh. But, I got the feeling there's a little more to the story." Jordan said when Callen entered their area.

"I agree. Now we just need to see if she backs up his story," Callen said.

"On it," Kensi said, opening up her cell phone.

A few minutes later Kensi returned, "His story checks out. Amanda Walsh said he was with her until 10."

"Well, that clears that up. Kensi, I think you and Deeks should still keep an eye on Collins. See where he goes," Callen replied before heading back to the interrogation room.

Interrogation room:

When Callen entered, he gave Sam a barely perceptible nod before sitting back down in his own chair.

"Sorry for the wait, just had to clear up some things. Just one more question. Does the name Lt. Commander Dale Fortmill mean anything to you?" Callen said.

"I've heard of him, but don't know him personally. Munsey, I think knows him, mentioned him once I think." Collins replied.

"That's all the questions we have. You're free to go," said Callen.

"Philip was a good friend, I'd never hurt him if that's what you're thinking. I hope you catch his killer," Collins said, getting up from his seat.

"We'll be in touch," said Sam.

* * *

Bullpen:

"Miss Harris and Mr. Callen, a word please," Hetty said when Jordan and Callen entered the bullpen. Callen and Jordan looked at each other in puzzlement before following the older woman to her office area.

They sat in the two chairs in front of the desk as Hetty sat down in her chair. Hetty poured herself some tea and poured a cup each for Callen and Jordan.

"It would appear that you had quite an eventful evening last night, Ms. Harris," Hetty said, taking a sip of her tea before setting it down on the desk. "How is the poor woman who was attacked?"

"She has a concussion but the doctors say she'll be fine. She couldn't offer a description except that the attacker had long black hair and black eyes." Jordan replied; taking a sip of her own tea and trying not wince at the slightly bitter taste.

"Yes. Yes. I'm glad she'll be alright. By the way, Your Rent-A-Car has been taken back to the rental place. The car was utter rubbish. A car will be provided for you if needed."

"Thank you." Jordan replied, trying not to laugh at the very apt description of the car.

"The fact that this killer was able to contact you in this way is worrisome. Obviously you can't return to that hotel." Hetty said.

"I've already checked out and plan on finding another place to stay under a different name," said Jordan.

"I think I may have the solution to your dilemma. That is if it's amenable with the two of you. If not, then we'll work on another solution."

"What do you mean if it's amenable…with the two of us?" Callen chimed in, wondering what Hetty was planning.

"For the duration of this case Miss Harris you can stay in the upstairs room at the boathouse. For added protection, Mr. Callen will have use of the downstairs room," Hetty finished, her eyes on them both.

Jordan gaped at the other woman, "I really appreciate what you've done. But, I don't need a baby sitter. I can take care of myself," Jordan insisted, feeling Callen's eyes on her as well which was a little unnerving.

"I'm sure you're more than capable of handling yourself, Miss Harris. Here, we're a team and as team members we work together and look out for one another. Are the terms agreeable?" Hetty asked, leaning back in her chair and tenting her fingers beneath her chin.

Both Jordan and Callen were silent for a moment, turning the idea over in their minds.

"Yes." Callen said, turning his gaze from Hetty to Jordan.

"Yes," Jordan said.

"Good. I'm glad that's settled," Hetty replied in a tone that said that the meeting was over.

Callen and Jordan rose from their seats and made their way to the bullpen.

"How does she do that?" Jordan whispered once they were out of earshot.

"Many have tried and failed to figure out Henrietta Lange." He replied with a smirk.

* * *

That evening

Boathouse:

Jordan dropped the bag of take out on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch while Callen sat in the straight back chair that was next to the couch.

"What a day," Callen said, resting his head against the back of the chair.

"Say that again," she chuckled, eyeing the bag of food.

"Where's that from?" Callen asked his eyes also on the bag.

"That restaurant that's about 5 minutes from here. Their specialty is South American cooking. Heard good things about the place so I thought I'd try it out." Jordan said, taking the carton of food out and opening it. Callen's mouth began to water at the delicious smells.

Jordan handed him one of the plastic forks and a paper plate that came with the meal. He took a bite of what Jordan told him was Empanadas Tucumanas or beef empanadas and found it to be delicious, tasted just like pot roast. Callen watched as Jordan took a bite out of her own meal, she closed her eyes as a smile came to her face.

"Casi tan bueno como la cocina de mi mamá." (Almost as good as my mom's)

"Su español está muy bien" (Your Spanish is very good.) Callen said, trying to pinpoint the dialect, "Argentina?"

"Right on the nose and thank you. Mom grew up there and came to the states when she was 18. She liked to talk to my sister Rachel and me in Spanish when we were growing up. Used to drive dad nuts sometimes," she replied with a chuckle.

Callen smiled in response. Jordan thought that he should definitely smile more, it made him even handsomer.

"Your dad's not from there?" Callen asked.

"No, born and raised in Virginia, USA." She finished with a smile.

* * *

"So, how long have you been with the FBI?" Callen asked, taking another bite of his food.

"Almost 13 years. Before that, I was with the Seattle PD for five years," she said.

"Wow. Lot of cops in your family?" he asked.

"Nope, I'm the only one. Dad's a lawyer, retired now. He wanted me to be a lawyer too, but I had other ideas," she grinned.

"So you were a rebel, huh?" He smirked.

"Something like that," she said. She was silent for a brief moment before continuing, "Could I ask you something?"

"Shoot," he said.

"Why do you only go by one letter of your name?" She asked, her eyes watching him intently.

"I uh…don't know what my first name is. All that I have on my record is the letter G. I'm still looking to find out."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," she replied looking contrite.

"No offense taken." Callen said. If anyone else had asked he probably would have shut them down but somehow it was different with her.

They sat in silence, finishing up their dinner. Callen spoke again, "Can I ask you a question too?"

"Go ahead," she said.

"The other day in ops, it was hard not to overhear Granger mentioning something that happened in London involving your sister…"

Jordan was quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Taking a deep breath she replied, "Yeah, she and my brother in law were in London on vacation and someone murdered Michael in the house where they were staying. It was thought that Rachel walked in on this person and was killed next. They said that it was a robbery but…"

"You don't believe that," Callen said watching her face.

"Rachel was still wearing an expensive diamond ring that Michael had given her. There were priceless art pieces still untouched. I tried every lead, looked through every picture, nothing but a dead end.

"I'm sorry. Hope you find your answers one day." Callen said.

"Thanks,hope you find your answers too," she replied softly, her gaze not leaving his.

The chirp of her cell phone broke the spell. Taking the phone from her pocket, she looked at the caller identification, "Have to take this." She said to Callen before rising up from the couch, "Yes, chief?"

Callen stared after her as she moved to the other side of the room.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jordan returned to the couch to find the remnants of the dinner cleared away. Callen was stretched out on the couch fast asleep. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Watching him, she thought he looked younger like this. Again she was struck by how handsome she thought he was.

_*Knock it off Jordan, stop acting like a starry eyed teen!*_ She admonished herself. She was not looking for a relationship. After her divorce she'd put that part of her life away and just concentrated on her work.

Seeing the blanket on the floor next to the chair, she picked it up and carefully covered him with it. Then she headed on upstairs.

TBC

Hope you liked this chapter. Hope everything made sense and was believable. More to come soon.


	6. Chapter 6

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF PART 5

Don't own so please don't sue. Only character that's mine is Jordan Harris.

_February 2003:_

_She sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in the office of the FBI department shrink on that cold, gray morning. The room was spacious with plush, beige colored wall to wall carpeting and off white walls. Dr. Hartman's mahogany desk, that housed a lap top computer and phone, was placed near the large window that looked out onto the busy Seattle street. A flowering jade plant rested against the corner of the room, to the right of the window. On the opposite wall was Dr. Marion Hartman's psychology degree and doctoral degree from two of the most prestigious Universities in the country. _

_Dr. Hartman was an olive skinned, middle aged woman of average height and build, dressed in a royal blue skirt with a matching jacket and a white blouse. Her feet were dressed in high heels the same color as her skirt. Her black hair which had just a touch of gray was cut in a pixie cut. She sat in her black leather high back office chair. The older woman's warm brown eyes and gentle smile directed itself toward Jordan._

_Jordan wanted to puke._

_This was her second visit with Dr. Hartman. The first visit Jordan sat in the chair and hadn't said much. Dr. Hartman just sat there and said that she was there whenever Jordan was ready to talk. Jordan had been fuming that her boss, Randall Wiseman, had suggested no make that ordered that she talk to someone. _

_ "You look tired. How much sleep have you been getting?" Dr. Hartman asked._

_Taking a deep breath Jordan replied, "Three, four hours tops I think?"_

_ "Nightmares?" Dr. Hartman asked._

_Jordan nodded her head._

_ "It's been a rough year, with everything. Your sister and brother-in-law's murder, your marriage breaking up. That would take a toll on anyone, you're only human."_

_ "I just…feel so angry all the time!" Jordan exclaimed, rising from her chair to walk around the room. She could feel the tears threatening to come and the crushing weight of grief on her chest, "Do you know what it feels like to just want to hit someone or something to just make the pain go away?"_

_Dr. Hartman eyed Jordan for a moment before replying with a soft, "Actually, I do." She paused briefly before continuing, "It's alright to be angry, you have that right. If you want to scream, we have a sound proof room here where you can scream as loud and as long as you want. You want to cry, I have plenty of tissues. If you want to hit something, there's a foam dummy in the closet for you to pound on. Use any of these methods. But, if you don't get rid of it, you're no good to anyone, least of all yourself."_

_Jordan started to make her way back to her seat when something on Dr. Hartman's desk caught her eye. It was a small placard that had the phrase 'Physician Heal Thyself' written in different languages all over the surface._

_ "My motto," Dr. Hartman replied, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips seeing what Jordan was looking at, "Or as I like to say, I can't take care of anyone else's crap, unless I have my own crap together first."_

_Jordan gave a light chuckle as she returned to her seat, "I kind of like that one."_

_ "Good. Are you ready to talk?"_

_Taking a shuddering breath, Jordan said, "Where do I start?" _

_ "Just…start at the beginning."_

* * *

Present Day:

Gym:

Jordan gently wrapped her hands with the hand wraps; once they were secure she went over to 'Billy' the electronic enemy.

"Morning Jordan!" Kensi called out, moving closer to where Jordan was standing.

"Hi Kensi," Jordan smiled at the younger woman as she pushed the buttons on the machine. She and Kensi had developed a tentative friendship of sorts. She also thought Deeks was sweet, like a kid brother.

"You ever used one of the things before?" Kensi asked.

"No, but I thought I'd give it a shot," Jordan replied, putting up her fist and taking her stance.

Callen slipped into the gym at that moment and was watching them at the machine. Both Kensi and Jordan were dressed similarly in gym pants and sports top. Yet it was Jordan who held his attention. She was in great shape; her body was toned and sculpted.

Moving closer, he saw that she was getting in some good jabs and kicks. Her fighting stance was good, her moves becoming sharper and quicker as she battled the machine.

"Not bad," Callen said, standing next to Jordan. Even though 'Billy" had beaten her, she got a good score.

"Morning Callen," Jordan said with a smile, pushing back loose tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

"Morning Jordan," he answered, finding that he liked the way she said his name.

"Hi Callen," said Kensi.

"Morning Kenz," he replied.

"Wow Fern! She got a better score than you," Deeks said, peering over the machine.

Kensi just rolled her eyes, "Stop calling me Fern, Deeks!"

Deeks grinned mischievously, "What do you say partner? Want to spar a little? I promise to take it easy on you." He said, moving toward the mat.

A wicked expression came to Kensi's face, "Alright, let's make it interesting. If I win, you have to wash my car for a week."

Deeks narrowed his eyes, "If I win, you have to bring me lunch for a week." He finished with a grin.

"Fine," she said, heaving a put upon sigh.

"And give me a back massage."

"Deeks." She said, her tone menacing.

"And give Monty the wonder dog a bath."

"Deeks!"

"Fine, let's go."

Neither of them noticed Sam Hanna entering the gym. Going over to the free weights, he watched both pairs in amusement.

"You have good form. Just remember balance and to shift your weight," Callen said.

"Thanks for the tip. I'm going to take a breather. 'Billy' is all yours," she grinned.

Callen took her place in front of the electronic enemy. He began pounding away while she stood and watched.

Suddenly Deeks let out a howl of pain.

Callen stopped his workout, both he and Jordan looked in the direction of the scream.

Kensi was sitting upright with Deeks pinned flat on the floor with her legs. She had one hand on his wrist and the other hand was bending his thumb back hard.

"Uncle! Uncle!" Deeks cried out.

"Are you going to wash my car?" Kensi asked sweetly.

"YES!"

"And wax it?"

"Yes! Anything you want!"

Kensi let him go and stood up. Deeks stood up shaking his sore hand.

"Oh I'm so going to love seeing my car all clean and shiny" Kensi said brightly before heading out of the gym, "And having you bring me one of those delicious breakfast burritos," she threw over her shoulder with a wink.

"Hey! That wasn't part of the deal!" Deeks exclaimed, following her out.

Callen and Jordan laughed while Sam came to join them.

"Hi Sam," Jordan said with a warm smile.

"Hey Jordan."

Looking back at the exit, "Are they always like that?" Jordan asked.

"Pretty much," Callen said to which Sam agreed.

"They should just admit they're crazy about each other and get it over with," she said shaking her head, "I'm heading to the showers. Thanks for the fighting tip Callen."

"Any time," Callen said with a grin.

"See you guys later," she finished as she headed for the exit.

When she was gone, Sam eyed his friend with a mysterious smile. "Yeah, some people should just admit their feelings," he said, leaving an open mouthed Callen.

* * *

Later that day:

Interrogation Room:

Lt. Neal Munsey took a sip of the water that Callen had given him.

"Just want to ask you a few questions, Lieutenant. Were you aware of a fight between Lt. Walsh and Chief Collins a few weeks before he died?"

"Yes, Collins and I talked about it after it after it happened. He was pretty upset about being passed over for that job. But, after a few days Walsh and Collins were back to being buddies again," Munsey finished, as he eyed both Callen and Sam. "You don't think Collins had anything to do with this do you?"

"We're just trying to cover all our bases here," said Sam, who was sitting next to Callen.

"Collins could never hurt anyone. He's a great guy."

"Does the name Lt. Commander Dale Lt. Fortmill mean anything to you?" Callen asked; his eyes trained on Munsey's face.

"Yes, I actually met him at the Navy recruitment office years ago. It was him that got me really excited about joining the Navy."

"Do you have any idea why Lt. Walsh scheduled a meeting with Lt. Commander Fortmill?" Sam asked.

"No clue," Munsey replied with a shake of his head. "At least he didn't say anything to me about this."

"That's all the questions we have, you're free to go. If there's anything you can think of or remember, let us know," Callen said.

"I'll help in any way I can."

* * *

That evening

Everyone had gone home for the evening, so Callen packed up his laptop and other paperwork he could do at the boathouse. Making his way through the bullpen and out of the main office, he went down the hallway that led to the boathouse. When he entered he saw Jordan sitting at the table busily typing away on her own laptop. Wire framed glasses rested on her nose as she studied the screen.

Sensing his presence, she looked up, "Hi Callen," she smiled, removing her glasses and putting them on top of her head.

Ignoring that quickening of his pulse that he got whenever she smiled at him, he walked over to the table, put his bag down and sat in the chair across from Jordan. "Didn't know you wore glasses."

"Only when I'm reading or working at the computer," she said.

Callen grinned in response, taking out his own laptop and setting it on the table. Once it was booted up he set to work.

Half an hour later there was a ping coming from Jordan's laptop which meant an email had come in. A minute later Callen heard Jordan's soft laugh and an "aww."

Callen glanced up from his own laptop, catching Jordan's eyes.

"Sorry, got an e-mail from my nephew. He won first prize at the science fair at his school for his replica of a volcano," She finished, familial pride evident in her voice.

"How old is he?" Callen asked.

"Cory is ten going on thirty," she replied grinning.

Callen laughed at that.

"He's a good kid, wicked smart and curious about everything," she said, a wistful expression briefly crossed her features. "I wish Rachel could see him. She'd be really proud of him."

"How old was he when she died," Callen asked.

"Almost a year old," Jordan said, "I think he's what held me and my parents together after everything."

Callen didn't even know the kid but he already felt empathy for him.

"Are you the older or younger sister," Callen asked.

"Older, by five minutes. We were identical twins." Jordan replied, smiling softly.

Callen was silent for a moment.

"Ok. Enough talking about me," she said with a laugh, "Tell me something about you."

"Nothing much to tell," Callen said

"In other words butt out and stop asking," Jordan replied, with a wry grin.

"No, nothing like that. I just…don't like talking about myself much." Callen said wanting to reassure her.

Jordan considered his answer, "Fair enough," she said looking back at her computer screen.

* * *

"I like long walks on the beach," Callen said ten minutes later.

Jordan looked up from her computer screen, her eyes on him.

"I said I like long walks on the beach; like to swim too." Callen said.

"I haven't been swimming in ages. Maybe when this is all over, I'll make a trip to the beach," Jordan said.

"Sounds good," Callen replied.

"How long have you worked at OSP?" Jordan asked.

"Four years, Sam and I've been partners for six years."

"Good having a partner who you can trust, who will always have your back," Jordan said.

"True."

* * *

Callen finished up his typing and rolled his neck to get the kinks out. Jordan had headed on upstairs about an hour ago. Looking at his laptop he typed in the name Rachel Jameson. An article from the London times popped up dated August 2002.

_'Couple found murdered in home. Rachel and Michael Jameson, who had been staying at the home of a friend, were found murdered this past Saturday. 35 year old Michael Jameson had been found dead in the living room with a single gunshot wound to the chest. His wife, 30 year old Rachel Jameson was found not far from her husband's body. She had been shot in the head. The police do not have a motive, but believe that it was a botched robbery attempt.'_

There was a picture of Rachel and Michael that must have been taken on their wedding day. It was a little unnerving to see Jordan's face staring back at him. Rachel had the same large, expressive eyes fanned by long lashes. The same chiseled features and high cheek bones.

Rachel was smiling, her expression full of happiness and hope for the future. Michael Jameson was an average looking man with a swarthy complexion, angular face with a black goatee and curly black hair. Brown eyes looked out from beneath heavy brows.

While Michael had a pleasant expression on his face, there was something about him that Callen didn't like. He wasn't sure why he felt that way; it was something he couldn't put his finger on.

Leaning back in his chair, he ran his hand over his mouth. His mind went back to the little blurb, _damn _was his only thought.

tbc

Hope you liked this chapter. The next one coming soon. Little spoiler, Callen, Sam and Deeks get to dress in tuxes again!


	7. Chapter 7

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF PART 6

NCIS LA and all its characters belong to Shane Brennan. Jordan Harris is the only character that's mine.

Bull Pen:

G. Callen sat at his desk going through e-mails and working through the small pile of over- due reports. Putting down his pen he sat back in his chair, looking around the bull pen. Sam was at his desk working on his own reports; Kensi was typing on her laptop and Deeks was away from his desk at the moment. Pushing himself away from his desk, he strolled out of the bullpen and headed for the coffee table to get some tea.

Nearing the table, he saw Jordan standing there with her back to him.

"Hi," Callen said, standing by her side.

"Hey," she said, turning her head to greet him with a smile. "Guess we had the same idea."

"Looks like it," he said, returning her smile.

She picked up a small, ornate, metal box off the table. Inspecting the box; she lifted the lid to peer inside.

"That's one of Hetty's specialty teas. She's always leaving some here for us to try," Callen warned, pouring hot water into his Styrofoam cup.

Jordan grimaced, obviously remembering the last time she had that particular tea, and quickly closed the lid. She then put the box back where she found it.

"It's an acquired taste, "he said with a smirk, dropping an ` English tea time' tea bag into his cup.

"Don't think I'll be acquiring it any time soon," she said with a chuckle, looking over the assortment of teas. Finding one to her liking and taking it out of the protective cover, she dropped the bag into her cup of hot water. She then turned to face Callen, "Well, guess I'll see you later." She said with a soft smile.

"Later," he grinned, watching her as she moved around him to head for the stairs.

"You should ask her out," Deeks said, as he suddenly appeared next to Callen.

Callen just turned his eyes to the other man.

Deeks continued, "It's obvious you two like each other. No sense in dragging out these things."

Callen raised an eyebrow at him incredulous and then just shook his head as he made his way back to his desk.

"What?" Deeks called out to Callen's retreating back.

* * *

An hour later and one more report to go; Callen's thoughts went to Jordan Harris again. He'd found himself thinking about her a lot lately. What was is about her that just got to him? He'd be lying if he said he wasn't physically attracted to her, she was probably the sexiest woman he'd ever met. But, the more time he spent with Jordan, the more things he found to like. He liked her intelligence; smart women had always been a turn on for him. He liked her sense of humor, beautiful smile and those incredible eyes. In the short time that he'd known her, had it been a week already, he saw her as a woman who was strong, confident and comfortable in her own skin.

She'd wanted him to tell her something about himself, but what could he really say? That his entire family had been murdered because of a decades old blood feud; that he'd lived in 37 different foster homes since the age of five, that until a few years ago he'd been basically homeless. Would she even want to know the real him if he told her?

A shrill whistle broke Callen out of his thoughts. Looking up at the top of the stairs, he saw Eric Beale.

"Everyone up to ops; we've got another body."

OPS:

The team stood against the long island table, focusing their attention on Nell as she moved to the smart board. Eric uploaded the picture of the victim, which showed a young woman dressed in full naval uniform. She had tan skin, small light brown eyes, narrow nose and a square jaw. Her jet black hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head.

"The victim is, Ensign Annette Gallagher age 24…" Nell said reading from her tablet. "After completing a tour in Iraq she went on to begin a career as a Navy paralegal for the assistant J.A.G. in San Diego."

Nell then pulled up the crime scene photos; it showed Ensign Gallagher lying on her back on what looked like shag carpeting, her eyes and tongue had been mutilated, "Ensign Gallagher's body was found early this morning at her home by Ensign Lisa Santoro who had arrived to drive the both of them to work. Ensign Santoro is also a paralegal at the same office. The CSI team found no trace evidence at the scene. There was also no forced entry or signs of struggle.

"Family?" Callen asked; his gaze focused on the photos.

"Yes, her father Max Gallagher and a younger brother Will Gallagher; both live in Dallas, Texas. She also has a boyfriend Sean Walker. Here's the interesting thing, there was a domestic dispute, police were called to the Walker residence about two months ago but no charges filed," Nell said.

"What can you tell us about Sean Walker?" Callen asked.

Sean Walker's picture was displayed on screen. Sean Walker was 32 years old and strikingly handsome in a spray tanned sort of way. He had longish, dark brown hair; an aristocratic nose and hooded black eyes beneath straight, heavy brows.

"He works as a photographer at Blaze studios in Santa Monica; has lived here for the past six years and no priors." Nell said. Looking back at her tablet, "M.E.'s report says cause of death a crushed trachea, just like the other victims. The report also says that she'd been dead for about 12 hours. That would put time of death at 9:30 last night."

"Were there any defensive wounds?" Jordan asked.

"No, just a clean kill." Nell said, looking at the group.

"Kensi, you and Deeks talk with Ensign Santoro. We'll check out Sean Walker," Callen said.

* * *

Ensign Santoro lived at the Villa Del Sol apartment complex in Santa Ana, California. Kensi pulled the car into the parking lot next to the building.

"Nice," Deeks said, taking in the Spanish style of the building structure as he exited the passenger side of the car.

"I don't think it's too pricey here. Thinking about giving up your place?" Kensi asked, getting out on her side and closing the door.

"Only if they accept Monty the wonder dog here," he grinned.

Making their way across the cobblestone walkway, they went to the door with the number 114. Kensi knocked, a moment later a woman answered the door. Ensign Lisa Santoro 28 years old, fair skinned with large blue-gray eyes set in a round face. Her ink black hair was up in a ponytail. Her tall, lean frame was dressed in white tank top and blue jeans.

"Lisa Santoro? I'm Agent Blye, NCIS." Kensi said, showing her badge and identification, "This is Officer Deeks," she said, indicating Deeks who also showed his badge. "We spoke earlier on the phone," Kensi said.

As if coming out of a daze, the other woman responded, "Yes…yes of course. Come on in," Lisa said, opening the door wider and stepping aside to let the two agents in the apartment. She then led them to a small kitchen and had them sit at the breakfast nook. Kensi and Deeks sat beside each other.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee…juice…" Lisa asked.

"No thank you," Deeks replied while Kensi just shook her head.

Lisa poured herself some coffee from the keurig coffee maker that was on the center island. Bringing her mug with her, she sat on the other side of the table.

"I want to say we're very sorry for your loss." Kensi started, her gaze focused on Lisa, "You were the one who found Annette Gallagher this morning?"

Taking a shuddering breath, Lisa replied, "Yeah, we would carpool to work every morning. We worked at the same office. When I got to her place at seven this morning I noticed the door was slightly open. I called out to her and there was no answer. Then I opened the door all the way and that's when I saw her on the floor like that." Lisa finished, visibly shaking at the memory.

"Was there anyone she was having problems with? Anyone you can think of who'd want to hurt her?" Deeks asked in a soothing tone.

"I've been thinking about that. You see, Annette and I were really close, practically sisters and would tell each other everything," Lisa said, taking a deep breath she started again, "She started seeing this guy, Sean Walker, about 3 years ago. She was head over heels for him, and for a while everything was fine. I'd met him and thought that he seemed like a nice guy who was crazy about her, but..."

"But what?" Kensi said, gently prompting the other woman to continue.

"Sometimes he'd make these remarks, about her being in the Navy. Sort of making fun of her; then he'd say he was just joking. Annette told me once that he'd tried to join the Navy when he finished College; but they rejected him for a medical reason." Lisa said, stopping for a moment to drink another sip of her coffee.

"For a while things seemed fine. Then they started to fight a lot. One night he'd been drinking heavily and they got into this huge argument. He slapped her so hard that he fractured her jaw. She had to go to the Navy medical center afterwards. She told the doctors that she'd been accidently hit in the face with a ball during a game."

"She didn't press charges?" Kensi asked, shocked and sickened by what she'd just heard.

Deeks was silently seething, wishing he could have just five minutes with this creep.

"No. She still loved him. He was so apologetic that she took him back. I begged her not to, but she wouldn't listen. I think she might have been a little ashamed too. Then everything seemed fine again until two months ago they got into a screaming match. I guess the neighbors called to complain, because the police showed up. No charges were filed, but I guess she finally decided she'd had enough and moved out."

"Did he threaten her?" Kensi asked.

"He came by the office one day about a week ago wanting to talk to her. She told him to leave, that she needed to think things through. I was about to call security when he decided to leave. Then he gave her this look and said she'd regret this."

"Regret what? Breaking up with him?" Deeks asked.

"I think so, or for not talking to him," Lisa replied.

"Did she seem fearful or anxious at all after the break up," asked Deeks.

"I'd say wary. She was trying to pick up the pieces and move on."

"Thank you for your time and again we're sorry for your loss." Kensi said, as both she and Deeks got up to leave.

"Thank you," Lisa said, rising up from her own seat. "If it turns out that Sean did this, could you do one thing for me please?"

"What?" Kensi asked.

"Tell him I said go to hell."

* * *

"You ok?" Kensi asked, taking her eyes off the road for a moment to look at her partner. He'd been silent for the past 10 minutes during the drive which was unusual for Deeks.

"Yeah, just thinking about what Lisa told us. Made me think about my mom and how my dad used to beat her and us."

She knew some of Deeks's history and knew he didn't like to talk about his past much.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Kensi replied.

"Sometimes I worry that I'll become him and…"

"You won't," Kensi said with conviction in her voice.

A wry smile came to his face, "How can you be so sure."

"I'm a good judge of people, I have good instincts. You're a good man. Besides, I'd kick your ass if you ever turned out that way," she finished with a sidelong glance.

Deeks glanced at her, his smile growing bigger, "Thanks Fern."

"Uggh! Don't call me Fern!"

* * *

Interrogation Room:

Jordan sat in the boat shed watching the interrogation on the monitor. In the interrogation room Sean Walker was dressed in jeans and white, button down shirt open at the collar. He sat on one side of the table while Sam and Callen sat next to each other on the opposite side.

"What's this all about?" Walker asked, eyeing both agents.

"This is about your girlfriend, Annette Gallagher," Callen said, his expression blank. Kensi had phoned earlier and had given him the lowdown on what Santoro had told her and Deeks.

"What about her? Has she or that bitch Lisa been complaining about me again?"

"Again?" Callen asked, studying the man. He thought Walker's eyes were like two bottomless black pools.

"Look, I just wanted to talk to her, so I went by the office to try to work things out with Annette. Of course Lisa had to interfere," Walker said as his mouth twisted in distaste at saying Lisa's name.

"Oh, you were just trying to get her to come back to you," Sam said.

"Yeah, that friend of hers has been filling her head with all sorts of crap about me. We still love each other and I know we can work it out if Annette would just talk to me. "

"Or she'll regret it," Callen said.

"Is that what Annette told you?" Walker asked, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

"She's not saying anything right now or ever," Callen said coldly.

"What do you mean," Walker asked, looking confused.

"She's dead; her body was found this morning at her home." Sam replied.

Walker looked from Callen to Sam, his face a mask of shock, "W…what do you mean she's dead?!"

Callen picked up the file that was on the table, opened it to pull out the crime scene photo of Annette Gallagher. He then placed the photo in front of Walker, "She was murdered last night."

Walker was transfixed on the photo, his eyes wide as if unable to comprehend what he was looking at, "OH MY G…what happened to her face!"

"Her eyes and tongue were burned, right after her trachea was crushed," Callen said, studying the other man. "Where were you between nine and ten last night?"

Tearing his gaze from the gruesome photo, Walker glared at both agents with wet eyes, "You can't think I did this! I loved her! I'd never hurt her!"

Callen leaned forward on the table, "Yeah, you loved her so much you sent her to the hospital with a broken jaw," he said, his voice low and deadly.

Walker sighed and ran a hand through his lengthy hair. He then closed his eyes as if bringing himself back into control, "Look, I'm not proud of what I did. I'd had a little too much to drink and we'd been arguing and she just kept going at me…"

"Oh, so you just wanted to show her whose boss. Get her to shut that trap," Sam said his expression dark.

"Your studio is only an hour from where she lived. Maybe you went there trying to talk to her again. Maybe she pissed you off again and you killed her!" said Callen.

"No! I… I admit I hit her, but I'm not a murderer!" Walker insisted, running his hands over his face, "Last night I was at the studio developing prints of a photo shoot that I'd done that morning. I was there till ten, and then I went home; had a beer and went straight to bed. I'll take a lie detector test if you want!"

"Was there anyone with you at the studio last night?" Callen asked.

Walker sighed, "No. My assistant left around eight last night. I was the last one to lock up."

"So basically you have no alibi." Callen said.

Walker sat quietly for a moment, "Do I need a lawyer?"

"Don't leave town." Sam said.

* * *

Later that evening:

Boathouse:

Jordan was sitting on the couch with her laptop, which was nestled on a cushion, resting on top of her legs. She reached down to grab a small packet of candy that was on the coffee table.

"Gummy bears?" Callen said, eyeing the brand name on the bag with distaste.

Jordan looked up at him, pushing her glasses up to the top of her head, "Hey, don't go insulting my snack," she said in mock anger.

"Yes ma'am, "Callen replied with a smirk before sitting down on the couch beside her. "Just didn't figure you for one to eat junk food."

"Oh yeah, what did you figure me for?" Jordan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know; you seem to eat pretty healthy. Yogurt, maybe tofu?"

Jordan's eyes widened, "Yogurt sometimes and only the Greek kind. Tofu? Never, it's against my religion."

"What religion is that?" Callen asked.

"One that doesn't allow things like tofu," Jordan replied, with a smirk.

Callen chuckled at that.

Glancing at Jordan's computer screen, he saw that she'd been studying the recent crime scene photos of Annette Gallagher.

"What was your take on Walker today," Callen asked.

"That he's a creep and a waste of valuable oxygen. He fits the profile, but I'm not completely sold on him being the killer. His reaction to the crime scene photo seemed genuine," Jordan replied.

"Could he have faked it?" Callen asked.

"Possible. A psychopath, who I believe is what this killer is, can mimic certain emotions and gain people's trust."

"Walker is in the number one slot for suspects. Then there's also Collins. Kensi and Deeks are still keeping tabs on him."

"Good. You know something jumped out at me while looking at the photos. Annette's body was close to the front entrance."

Jordan put her laptop on the coffee table and got up from the couch to stand in the middle of the room.

"I'm five foot eight; the same height as Annette Gallagher. How tall are you, Callen?" Jordan said.

"Five foot eleven," Callen replied, wondering what Jordan was thinking.

"Stand in front of me please," she said.

Callen got up from the couch to stand in front of Jordan. She placed her hands on his arms to position him the way she wanted. He found himself hating it when she removed her hands.

"There was no forced entry. What if she let the killer in?" Jordan said, mimicking opening a door. "She lets him in," Jordan said, stepping back as if allowing Callen to come inside. "Her head was toward the door. So maybe she turned her back on him."

"He grabs her throat," Callen said, throwing his right arm across Jordan's neck as Jordan instinctively grabs his wrist with her hands. "He overpowers her and crushes her trachea." Jordan says as Callen drops his arm.

Jordan turned and looked into Callen's eyes, "It may or may not have been Walker, but I think Annette knew her killer."

It would be another week before the killer made his next move.

TBC.

Hope you all liked this chapter. Please review. Next chapter coming soon.


	8. Chapter 8

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF Part 7

AN: Edited to make some corrections and to change the ending. I just felt that the kiss wasn't something Callen would do right then. He'd think about it but wouldn't do it just yet.

NCIS LA is owned by Shane Brennan the only character that's mine is Jordan Harris

Jordan tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity, finally giving up on sleep she turned on the bedside lamp. Picking up her watch, she saw that it was one o'clock in the morning. Plopping back on the pillow, she stared up at the ceiling. _Insomnia sucks_. It didn't happen often but when it did it was a pain to get through. Maybe she could read her book until she fell asleep. Looking on the nightstand, she didn't see it there or anywhere else in the room. Then she realized she must have left it downstairs.

Throwing the covers back, she got out of bed and slid her feet into some slippers and put on her robe. She then exited the room and made her way softly down the stairs. When she reached the bottom step, she saw that the light was still on but Callen was asleep on the couch. A soft smile crossed her lips as she briefly glanced at the sleeping man.

Moving to the coffee table, she saw her book. As she was about to pick it up, she thought she heard Callen say something. Turning her head she noticed that he was still asleep. Callen then started talking and moving around in his sleep, it looked like he was having a nightmare. She couldn't understand what he was saying but it sounded as if he was speaking another language. Suddenly he started thrashing around violently and yelling in what she recognized as Romanian. _Why is he speaking in Romanian? _

Fearful that he'd hurt himself and not wanting to spook him, she gently put her hands on his arms, "Wake up Callen. It's just a dream."

Callen's eyes flew open, his hands gripping her arms. Still in the throes of the nightmare, Callen continued to yell out in Romanian, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and fear. Seeing Callen like this brought out her protective streak. _What the hell was he seeing? _ Jordan decided to try another tact, "Totul este in regula. Eşti în siguranţă." (Everything's alright. You're safe.) She said over and over.

Her words seemed to break through as Callen began to calm down and his breathing became regular. His grip loosened on her arms as his eyes began to focus on his surroundings. "Jordan?" He said, as his eyes settled on her face.

"Hey there; welcome back," Jordan smiled, moving off the couch as he started to sit up. Jordan went to the refrigerator that near the wall on the other side of the room. Pulling two bottles of water from the fridge.

Callen sat on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. _What the hell happened? _The last vestiges of the dream starting to fade away. It was a recurring one that came sometimes. He dreamt that he was at the beach again, getting the toy soldier and seeing someone shooting his mother as he tried to warn her. That's when he came out of the dream to see Jordan's worried eyes staring down at him. Guilt filled him as he realized that he'd grabbed Jordan's arms during his nightmare.

Feeling the couch dip, he lifted his head to see Jordan offering him a bottled water. "Thanks," he said, taking the bottle from her and unscrewing the top. After taking a few quick gulps, he set the bottle on the coffee table.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. There was no fear in her eyes, no pity just concern, understanding and warmth. It was almost too much that he had to look away.

"Not at all," she said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm, "You ok?"

Callen looked down at her hand and then back at her, "Yeah, I'm fine thanks," he replied with a slight grin, taking another sip of water. Setting the bottle on the coffee table he sat back against the couch and took in Jordan's appearance. Her hair was a jungle of curls and waves, his eyes traveled lower to her white t-shirt, with the logo Brown University, which looked like it had seen better days; sleep pants and slippers. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed. Just the thought made his body react.

Jordan noticed him staring and pulled her robe tighter, "Sorry, I know I look a mess." She chuckled.

"Not at all, did I wake you?" Callen asked with a grin.

"No. Actually I couldn't sleep; insomnia. Came downstairs to get my book, thought it would help," she said, reaching to pick up the book off the table, "That's when I heard you talking in your sleep in Romanian." She said.

"You speak Romanian?" Callen asked.

"Not really. My former FBI partner, who was a third generation Romanian, taught me some words and phrases while we were working a case where a Romanian immigrant girl was kidnapped and held for ransom. Luckily we were able to save the girl and return her to her family and put the people responsible behind bars," she finished, pausing for a moment before continuing, "He also taught me a few swear words too," she chuckled.

Callen found himself laughing with her. "You said former partner. What happened?" He asked starting to relax as all remnants of the dream faded away.

"He retired about two years ago. I've been solo ever since," she replied.

Callen said nothing as a comfortable silence surrounded them.

Soon curiosity got the better of him, "What other languages do you speak?"

"Besides Spanish; Italian and French," Jordan replied.

"Quand étaient vous en France?" (When were you in France?) He asked.

"Je suis allé en France comme un étudiant participant à un échange pendant mon année Cadette dans le Collège" (I went to France as an exchange student during my Junior year in High School) she replied in flawless French.

"Impressionnant. Évidemment à Paris, peu importe comment bon votre accent ils vous ignoreront." (Impressive. Of course in Paris, no matter how good your accent they will ignore you.)

"Molto vero. Questo è il motivo per cui ho trovato l'Italia molto più invitante" (Very true. That's why I found Italy much more inviting.)

"L'Italia è bella. Quando a Roma le persone che sto da Nord. (Italy is beautiful. When in Rome people think I'm from the North.)

"Milano forse. Una delle mie città preferite." (Milan perhaps. One of my favorite cities.) Jordan answered with a smile.

Callen returned her smile before glancing at the title of Jordan's book 'The Da Vinci code' by Dan Brown. "Good book," he said.

"Yeah, it is. One of my favorite authors. Well, you probably want to get back to sleep so.." Jordan said, starting to get up from the couch.

"Don't have to go. We can talk for a little while if you want," Callen said, finding himself not wanting her to leave just yet.

"Ok, what would you like to talk about?" Jordan said, sitting back down.

"Doesn't matter," he grinned.

Jordan chuckled at that, "Ok, let's see," she said, eyes narrowed as she pondered a topic.

"Favorite movie," she asked.

Callen wasn't expecting that, "Favorite movie? Uh…Star Wars, all three actually."

"Mine too. What do you think of the remakes?"

"Hate the remakes," Callen grimaced.

"Oh, man after my own heart!" she grinned. "Your favorite book?"

"The Great Gatsby."

"Nice." She said, "Batman or Superman."

"Batman." Callen said.

"Why Batman?" she asked.

"He was just a regular guy who fought crime with no super powers. Plus there was the cool car and the bat cave."

"I'll give you that," Jordan said, nodding her head in agreement.

"Who was your favorite superhero?" Callen asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Wonder Woman."

The corner of Callen's mouth twitched in hidden laughter.

"Don't laugh. She was cool. She had the bullet deflecting bracelets, golden lasso of truth and the invisible jet." Jordan said, trying not to laugh herself.

"If the jet was invisible how could she even see the controls to fly the thing," Callen asked.

"She had some ability to see the jet and no one else could? I don't know?'' she laughed.

After their laughter died down Jordan spoke again, "Did you always want to be an NCIS agent?"

Callen thought for a moment before answering, "I actually started out as a DEA agent then moved on to the FBI for a few years. Then I worked with the CIA before coming to NCIS. NCIS is the right fit for me."

"It's good when the right thing comes along," Jordan said, looking into Callen's eyes.

"Yeah…it is. Uh…what made you become an FBI agent?" Callen asked.

"I wanted to do more. I loved being a police officer but I felt I could do more and I liked the opportunities that a career with the FBI could bring." Jordan replied feeling sleepiness over take her, "Now, I'm really going to head on up. Don't think I want to face Hetty's wrath if I fell asleep on the job." Jordan said getting up from the couch.

"Good point," Callen said watching as Jordan headed for the stairs.

"Night, Callen."

"Night, Jordan."

Once Jordan disappeared from sight, Callen turned out the light and stretched out on the couch. Drifting off to sleep he dreamed again of the beach, but this time it was of Jordan laughing and walking toward him with outstretched arms.

Jordan slipped underneath the covers, the events of the night playing in her mind. G Callen was definitely a mystery. She was attracted to him; when he looked at her with those blue eyes it made her heart flutter. Besides the physical there was something about him that spoke to her. She found him to be a good man. A man who was strong, intelligent, sexy and a little dangerous. But there was a hint of sadness in him and she sensed that he didn't trust people easily. From what she'd seen Hetty and Sam were the ones he was closest to. She wondered what had happened to him in his past. When he was calling out in his sleep there were two Romanian words that she'd recognized. They were-mom and run.

* * *

Two days later:

OPS:

An emergency meeting had been called that morning. The team was milled around the room as Director Leon Vance appeared on screen.

"We have a situation people," said a somber looking Vance.

"What's going on, Director?" Callen asked.

"Once a year the San Diego charter of the Navy organizes an awards banquet honoring those sailors who have shown exemplary service; this year we have three honorees. Top Navy brass will also be there. SECNAV received an envelope yesterday with a letter inside that mentioned the banquet along with a rather disturbing picture." Vance explained as the screen split to show the message and the picture.

The message had cut out letters pasted on white paper that said: Annual Naval Banquet-Who will live and who will die? Tick Tock.

Next was the picture which was the standard recruitment photo with a Navy officer standing in full attention in his uniform and weapon. The difference here was that the eyes and mouth of the photo had been punctured.

"No fingerprints on the envelope?" Sam asked.

"None, this individual was very careful. It would appear that this serial killer wants to leave his mark at this event; let's make sure he doesn't succeed." Vance said before making a slashing movement against his throat to indicate cut the transmission feed. Then the screen was blank.

"Why attack at the banquet, seems like such a risky move." Kensi said.

"He's getting cocky, wants to raise the stakes a little. It's become a game to him now," Jordan replied, crossing her arms.

"What do we know about the honorees?" asked Callen.

"LT. Stephen Jacobs age 29, LTJG. Douglas Goodell age 34 and Ensign John Rodriguez age 25." Nell said, bringing up a picture of each person. "Both LT. Jacobs and Ensign Rodriguez did a tour in Iraq, while LTJG. Goodell did two tours in Afghanistan. Goodell lost part of his leg from mortar fragments while engaging in firepower with enemy insurgents. After coming home he received a prosthetic leg after months of physical therapy at the Navy medical center in San Diego.

"So the killer will be targeting one of them?" Deeks asked.

"Possibly, or that's what he wants us to believe. It's become a game with him and he's toying with us by making us guess his next move," Jordan said.

"I'm really starting to hate this guy," said Sam, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I've looked over the information about the banquet. It's a masquerade party but it's still a black tie event. The only costume requirement is a mask," Nell explained.

"A mask, so he'll be able to hide in plain sight." Callen said.

"Exactly," Jordan said, looking at Callen.

"The banquet is tomorrow night at the Hillside country club with the cocktail hour at 6:00pm. It's RSVP." Nell finished.

"Very well, there will be five more guests there on the list to keep an eye on things." Hetty said; her gaze on the rest of the agents and Jordan. "Let's keep this killer from claiming another victim."

* * *

The next evening:

Outside Dressing room:

Callen arrived at the bullpen dressed in his black tux; he saw that the others weren't there yet. Moving closer to where the mirror was just outside the dressing room, he adjusted his jacket.

A moment later the curtain to the dressing room parted and Jordan stepped out. Callen turned around to see her coming towards him and his jaw dropped. She wore a black lace, knee length cocktail dress, with a neckline that stopped at the top of her full breasts, which fit her like a glove. Diamond hoop earrings dangled from her ears. At her feet were black high heel shoes that made her dancer's legs appear even longer. Her hair was up in soft bun at the back of her neck. Jordan Harris took his breath away.

Jordan nearly stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Callen. The man was too handsome for his own good, looking like he'd just stepped off the cover of GQ. She felt her face flush from his heated stare.

"Very nice," Jordan said as her ruby red lips turned up in a smile.

"Thanks…you too," Callen said his mouth feeling a little dry.

"A little help please," she said, holding up a pendant necklace.

Callen took the necklace from her as Jordan turned around and dipped down so the pendant chain could go around her graceful neck. He found the latch and brought the two ends together, his fingers brushing against her silky skin as he released the chain.

Jordan turned around, her hand on top of the pendant, "Thank you." She said her gaze locked with his.

Deeks, Kensi and Sam had come up behind them at that time. They gave each other a look before turning their attention back to Callen and Jordan.

Jordan saw the others, "Hi guys! Wow, you all look great."

Deeks and Sam were dressed in black tuxes just like Callen. Kensi was dressed in a black, knee length, one shoulder cocktail dress with black manolo blahnik heels. Pearl drop earrings hung from her ears.

"Oh good, you're all here," Hetty said as she neared the group. She handed each of them a small white envelope. "You will find your invitations and identifications." Hetty said before pointing to her left, which was where Deeks's desk was, there was a case that held different masks. "Here you may choose your masks."

Jordan took a look at her identification which read Olivia Simmons. A small smile touched her lips.

"What?" Callen said, noticing her smile.

"Olivia is my middle name. I actually used it once for an undercover thing for the job," she replied.

"Sounds like an interesting story," he replied with a smirk.

"Maybe I'll tell you one day," she said as they moved toward the masks.

Both Jordan and Kensi chose a Venetian cat mask that only covered the top half of their faces. Callen, Sam and Deeks chose plain half faced masks.

"Yes, each one of you looks splendid. Now, be careful with these costumes. No scuff marks on the shoes; tears or spills on the suits or dresses. Or I will end you." Hetty said before turning on her heel and leaving the group.

Jordan looked at Callen, "She's not kidding is she."

"No," Callen said putting his hand gently on the small of her back as they moved to leave the OSP headquarters. An action that didn't go unnoticed by the other team members.

Hillside Country Club:

Callen and Jordan pulled up in the jaguar at the front entrance of the country club. When the valet took the car, they entered the building. Kensi, Deeks and Sam came in after. Once they went through the security checkpoint they were allowed into the ballroom.

Sam was in the security booth with another security person checking the monitors. Callen, Jordan, Deeks and Kensi walked the floor.

There was a wet bar on one side and the band played near the wall that was located opposite the bar. At the exit there was a guard, at the opposite end of the ballroom there was a sliding glass door that opened up to the patio where the party goers could venture outside and go for a walk in the garden. There was a second, smaller door that was located near the bandstand. A large group of people were already there. Some were at the bar, a group were at the tables and others just milled around. All the guests wore masks, most were half masks and there were some that wore masks that covered their whole face.

Callen checked his earwig, "Sam, how many people do we have wearing a full mask."

"I counted at least ten," said Sam's voice in all their earpieces.

"We'll have to keep our eyes peeled. Look for anyone who breaks away from the group. He's going to pick someone who's alone, someone he can gain trust and get to an isolated area." Jordan said as she and Callen surveyed the room.

"Kensi how is it on your end," Callen said.

"More people still coming in, haven't seen any more full masks."

Jordan noticed that the waiters wore full masks too.

"He may be posing as one of the wait staff," Jordan said as they moved toward the tables that had been set up for the banquet. Callen and Jordan found their table, number 12, and their names on the cards. They also found the name cards for Sam, Kensi and Deeks as well as three other names. Soon an older couple joined them. Lt. Commander Grayson and his wife Pamela.

Ten minutes of small talk later, Callen and Jordan excused themselves and moved to the open door to step out onto the patio. They then moved to the Gazebo where they had an unobstructed view of the door.

Sam's voice suddenly came to their earwigs, "Think we might have something. Officer coming your way."

Soon they saw a young man in his early twenties and dressed in his navy blues, step out onto the patio look around and move toward the garden.

"Guess it was a false alarm," Callen said.

Five minutes later another officer in his naval uniform. The first officer who'd gone out came back and had a brief conversation with the second officer. When the second officer was alone again, he walked out into the garden.

A minute later a man wearing a full face mask came out and moved to the garden.

"We have another one. A full masked guy and a female officer. They are headed for the side door by the bandstand," Sam said.

"We got it," Deeks said as he and Kensi headed for the bandstand.

Once the masked man passed the Gazebo, Callen and Jordan followed at a safe distance.

Deeks and Kensi saw their target and the female officer headed toward the gate house. The masked man and she reached the building, opened the door and went inside.

Jordan and Callen hid behind a bush and saw their target move toward the officer as he went around the shed.

Kensi and Deeks put their ear to the door and heard what sounded like a scream and a moan. Deeks signaled to Kensi and they kicked the door in.

"Federal agents!" Kensi cried her gun drawn. Deeks had his gun drawn on the masked man.

The masked man was unmasked and looking very confused as the woman took her arms from around his neck. They both had their hands up. "What's going on?" the young woman asked.

"Uh is everything ok?" Kensi asked.

"Yeah. Could you take your gun off my fiancée please?" She said, her green eyes pleading.

"Sorry for the interruption," Deeks said eyeing Kensi as the both left the young couple to go to Jordan and Callen.

Jordan and Callen then went around the shed to see the masked man grab the officer by the throat and enter the shed.

"Federal agents!" Callen growled as he and Jordan had their guns drawn on the masked man. The killer pushed the officer toward them as he made way to a side door at the back of the shed, pushing objects down on the ground to make his escape.

Callen jumped over the hurdles to get to the back door and out to the open. Once Jordan made sure the officer, whose name was Philip, was alright she went after Callen as Deeks and Kensi entered the shed.

Callen caught sight of the masked man as he headed for the woods. He ran faster, his chest and his legs feeling like they were burning the farther he went along. Suddenly there was a clearing that lead out into the street. Stopping and bending down with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He moved out further and looked to the left and right. There was nothing, they'd lost him. Callen started to move back towards the woods when he heard a car revving its engine, the sound was getting louder and he saw headlights heading straight for him. Suddenly he felt something push him out of the way; he and Jordan tumbled to the ground as the car hurtled past. He was able to get the license -7AJS51. He then realized he still had an armful of Jordan who was checking him out to see if he was hurt.

"Are you ok?" she asked concern evident in her voice.

"I am now."

"Good to hear," she grinned. When they were both back on their feet, they headed back to the country club.

Other than a few scrapes and bruises Jordan and Callen were given a clean bill of health. Officer Philip Taylor was also going to be fine. The team headed back to OSP.

* * *

Boat house:

Luckily Jordan's outfit and Callen's suit had escaped unscathed. They both sat on the couch in their regular clothes.

"We lost him," Callen sighed, leaning back against the couch.

"Yeah, but we'll get him next time. We did at least save someone from him." Jordan replied.

"True. What do you think this guy's next move will be?"

"Don't know. But, my guess is he's pretty angry right now because we messed up his plans. That could cause him to get sloppy."

"We'll be ready for him." Callen said. After a brief silence, he looked at Jordan's beautiful face, his eyes traveling to her tempting lips that he suddenly wanted to kiss before moving back up to her eyes, "Thanks for having my back out there tonight."

"Any time," she replied softly.

TBC:

Hope you liked the story and hope everyone was in character and that everything made sense. Reviews are always appreciated. Hope to have chapter eight up soon.

Jordan's dress . ?cataId=PD&productid=734492&imgindex=5 Kensi's dress . ?cataId=PD&productid=924839&imgindex=1


	9. Chapter 9

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF PART 8

NCIS LA and all its characters belong to Shane Brennan. Jordan Harris is the only character that's mine.

OPS:

"Anything on that license plate, Nell?" Callen asked as he stood beside Jordan.

"Yes, the car belonged to a Mr. Albert Cannon, age 80. He'd reported it stolen yesterday morning. It was found abandoned about 20 miles from the country club." Nell said, turning in her chair to face the group of agents.

"Any evidence found in the car?" Jordan asked.

"Wiped clean. But they did find a hair sample, a single black strand. Turned out to be synthetic, most likely from a wig." Nell said.

"So it was a wig," Jordan said to no one in particular, remembering the image of the suspect on the surveillance camera footage from the hotel.

"Anything else, Nell?" Callen asked.

"No, the car was wiped clean of any fingerprints. I looked through the security footage of all the guests and one familiar face popped up." Nell said before pulling up a picture of Chief Earl Collins.

"Doesn't necessarily make him the killer…" Jordan said.

"But it does push him up front on the suspect list," Callen replied casting a glance at Jordan.

"Maybe we need to have another talk with Collins," said Sam.

Callen's cell phone suddenly chirped. Bringing the phone to his ear, he answered, "Callen."

A nervous sounding male voice answered, "Mr. Callen sir? I don't know if you remember me, but we met at the Medical Center. This is Lt. Dan Franklin."

"Lt. Franklin. I remember you, is something wrong?"

"I need to speak with you about the case. I think I discovered something. I'm not at the center, it's my day off. I'll give you my home address."

It would take about an hour to get to Franklin's place. After writing down the address, Callen and Sam left the OPS room.

* * *

Sam looked over at his partner who was rubbing his shoulder, "You ok?"

"Yeah, shoulder is a little sore from that tumble I took last night." Callen replied.

"Sorry we didn't catch the guy, but at least we kept him from getting another victim."

Callen just nodded his head.

"You and Jordan made a good team last night. Should I think about getting another partner," Sam said with a grin.

Callen turned his head and smirked at his best friend, "Forget it, you're stuck with me for life."

Sam laughed in response, "I've been noticing that you two seem kind of close lately."

"We're just friends, Sam." Callen answered with a sigh.

"Just friends? People who are just friends don't look at each other the way you two did last night." Sam said.

"You're imagining things and yes, we're just friends. There's nothing going on between us." Callen insisted as the memory of wanting to kiss her last night came to him.

"Nothing at all," Sam replied, his tone indicating he didn't believe him.

"Yes nothing. She's a cop remember, I don't date cops. And plus she's not my type." Callen said.

"Not your type?" Sam said, casting a sidelong glance at Callen as he made a left.

"Right, I go for blondes. Besides once this case is over she'll be heading back to Seattle and back to her own life."

Sam pulled the Challenger in front of the one level house where Lt. Franklin lived, "Who're you trying to convince G? Me or you," Sam said as they both exited the car.

The neighborhood where Lt. Franklin lived was quiet and seemed mostly deserted at the moment.

Both men strode up the walkway and on to the porch of Franklin's house. Callen noticed the door was slightly open. He looked back at Sam and signaled before going in with gun raised. Sam waited a beat before following Callen inside with his gun raised. "Clear!" said Callen as he checked the front entrance. "Clear!" Sam said, going to the left and checking the living room. Callen went to the right where the kitchen was, seeing nothing he called out, "Clear!" He then moved down the hallway and opened the door to his left which opened to the bedroom. He looked to the floor and saw a pair of feet sticking out on the other side of the bed. Going around to the other side, he saw Lt. Franklin dead with burned out eyes and tongue.

"Sam, in here!" He called out.

Next to the body was a folded piece of paper with the words Agent Jordan Harris in blocked letters. _What the hell? _Callen thought as he put on his latex gloves before picking up the note and bagging it. He then took a picture of the note with his phone to have a copy.

"Poor kid," Sam said once he entered the room and looked at the body. "What's that?" he said, looking at the bagged note in Callen's hand.

"The son of a bitch left Jordan a little note," he ground out.

"This creep is getting on my nerves." Sam remarked.

Looking around the room Callen saw Lt. Franklin's laptop and printer on the desk by the window. Looking out, he saw that the back of the house led to a wooded then looked through the laptop, which was still on, while Sam called it in. Whatever had been on the laptop had been wiped clean, he then opened up the drawers and found a photograph. It looked like it was taken inside a building by a camera phone. It was a picture of Chief Collins kissing a blonde woman.

"Hey Sam, take a look at this."

Sam moved closer to where Callen was standing, "Is this what he wanted to show us?" Sam said, glancing at the photo.

"Don't know. Maybe he thought he knew who the killer was." Callen said.

"The killer got to him before he could say anything." Sam replied.

After the CSI team went over the area and had taken the body away Sam and Callen headed back to headquarters.

* * *

OPS:

"That's definitely Amanda Walsh that Collins is kissing," Kensi said as they all stood around the table studying the now enlarged photo.

"Guess the mourning period is over," Deeks said.

Callen silenced him with a look. "According to the M.E. that was there, Franklin was probably killed shortly after calling us which would put his death between 11:30 and 12:30 today. There were no witnesses just like before and no signs of struggle or any kind of trace evidence," Callen said. Taking a breath he continued, "Jordan, the killer left you a note. I took a picture of it so I could let the CSI people look over the original for any kind of prints." He hated doing this; he'd seen what that animal had written.

Callen brought up the picture of the note on his phone and handed it to Jordan.

Jordan saw the grim expression on his face and steeled herself before looking at the note.

It said plainly in ugly blocked letters: FAILED AGAIN. JUST LIKE YOU FAILED YOUR SISTER.

She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her jaw tight, she looked back up at Callen and the rest of the group their expressions betraying nothing. She then handed him his phone back, "I need some air," she said in a flat tone before leaving OPS.

* * *

Gun Range:

Jordan put on the safety goggles and the headphones over her ears.

Flashback: October 2002

_ "This has to stop Jordy!" Derek cried, running his hands through his short, curly black hair. They were standing in the middle of their kitchen having an argument which seemed to be happening a lot lately._

_ "I'm trying…"_

_ "No! You're not. You're barely eating; you hardly sleep anymore because you're up until all hours looking at those damn crime photos! Now I find out you booked a flight to London tomorrow!" _

_Jordan looked at her husband of five years and wondered how it had come to this. He was 6'2 and leanly muscled with a face that could grace the cover of a movie magazine. Everyone said they were the perfect pair. They'd been together ever since she'd graduated the police academy. She loved him but right now she wanted to shake him. She knew he was right but she needed answers._

_ "I'm trying to find out who killed her and Michael!"_

_ "I understand that!" He exclaimed his chocolate brown eyes locked with hers._

_ "Do you really?" she asked wondering if he was listening to her at all._

_ "Of course I do. I loved Rachel and Michael too; she was practically my sister. But, it's become an obsession with you. It was a botched robbery plain and simple. You need to let it go…move on." Derek said, moving closer to her and putting his hands on her shoulders._

_ "Oh come on! You don't believe that any more than I do. Her ring wasn't taken and there were art pieces worth millions that wasn't even touched!"_

_ "This is what I'm talking about! You're destroying yourself…us. I just want my wife back! I want us to go back to the way we were. Don't you remember all the plans we made? We were talking about starting a family."_

_ "I don't know if I can bring the person I was back." She answered her voice breaking._

_Derek dropped his hands from her shoulders, his eyes gazing at her sadly before he turned and walked out of the apartment._

_A month later, she came home from work early to find Derek and the next door neighbor going at it on the dining room table. _

Present Day:

Jordan took her stance, raised her gun and focused on the paper target in front of her. Her shots hit their destination, first the center of the chest and the rest for the headshots.

Callen stood outside and watched her as she fired rounds at the target. Her stance was good and she held her arms in the correct manner. Her hands were steady as she fired. She was an excellent shot. He knew that damn note had rattled her; had seen the color drain from her face. He really wanted a few minutes alone with this guy.

She brought the paper target forward and took it down from the clasps. She studied it for a moment before taking off her goggles and headset. Turning around and heading for the door, she saw Callen through the glass.

"Hi," she said with a slight grin as she exited the gun range.

"Hey," he replied walking with her to the table where she sat in the chair and began cleaning her gun. Callen stood in front of her on the opposite side.

"You ok?" he asked.

"I will be." She said her focus on cleaning the gun.

Callen was quiet for a moment, "Don't let this guy get into your head. He wants to rattle you, throw you off your game."

Jordan stopped cleaning and gazed up at Callen, "You're right. I know you're right and he's trying to toy with me. It just uh…caught me by surprise."

"Just keep your head in the game and don't let him win."

Jordan nodded. "I was supposed to be there that weekend." She said after a brief silence, her voice low and steady. "My husband…ex-husband now…and I were supposed to be there. We were going to spend the week there with them and we would all fly back to the States. Derek had to pull out of the trip at the last minute because something came up at work. I didn't want to go without him so I pulled out too."

Callen said nothing; he just listened as she told her story.

"In the back of my mind I've always wondered if maybe they'd still be alive if we'd been there. Maybe I could have saved them."

"You can't think that way. What happened to your sister and brother in law was terrible but it wasn't your fault. It's easy to fall into the trap of what ifs but it doesn't help anything and it only eats you up inside." Callen said.

Jordan said nothing for a moment. Taking a deep breath she continued, "Wow. I've never said that out loud to anyone." She studied Callen's face for a moment her expression softening, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"For listening."

* * *

Later that day:

Interrogation Room:

Callen and Sam sat at the table opposite Chief Collins.

"Chief Collins, thank for your time. We just want to ask you a few questions," Callen said.

"No problem. What's going on?" Collins asked, shifting in his seat.

"When was the last time you saw Lt. Dan Franklin?" Callen asked.

"Uh…Yesterday morning I think. Yeah, he was helping me move some equipment and do some filing. Why?"

"He was found dead in his home earlier today. Killed by the same person who killed Walsh," Callen said, studying Collin's reaction.

Collin's eyes widened in shock as he looked from Sam to Callen, "W…What?! I don't believe it." He said, running his hands over his mouth.

"Where were you between 11:30 and 12:30 today?" Sam asked.

"I was at work. I did go out for lunch at the nearby diner but I came back right after."

"Anyone with you?" Callen asked.

"No. Wait…You think I did this? Why would I kill Dan?"

"Have to look at all possibilities," Callen said as he pulled out the photo of Collins and Amanda Walsh.

Collins looked at the photo, "Where'd you find this?"

"Doesn't matter; how long have you and Mrs. Walsh had this thing." Callen asked, leaning forward on the desk.

"We don't have a thing. I think I know when that was taken. Amanda had come by the center to clean out Philip's office. We started talking and I just kissed her. She pushed me back and turned me down flat. I've had feelings for her for a while but she said she just wanted to be friends." Collins insisted as he ran his hands over his bald head.

"Maybe; or Lt. Franklin caught the two of you and maybe confronted you. Maybe he found something that linked you to the death of her husband and you killed him to shut him up."

"No! I had nothing to do with what happened to Philip or to Dan! I'm not a killer!" Collins insisted. He slumped back into the chair, "Could I have a drink of water please."

Callen stared at the other man briefly before getting up and going out the door.

Boat shed:

Callen saw Jordan at the table. "What do you think?"

"Could be telling the truth, but he seems a little more agitated this time." She replied.

The screen on the monitor changed to show Eric Beale's face.

"We just got back the autopsy report. Lt. Franklin's death was just like the others, crushed trachea and burned out eyes and tongue. But, the coroner found something else. There were skin cells underneath Franklin's nails. The lieutenant must have scratched the killer during the struggle. The skin samples have been sent to the lab and we should get the results in two days."

"Thanks Eric," Callen said.

"No problem," Eric said before his face disappeared and the screen showed the interrogation room again.

"Now we just need to get a sample from Collins," Jordan said.

Callen got a plastic cup and a water bottle from the fridge. Once he filled up the cup, he went back into the interrogation room.

Interrogation Room:

Placing the cup of water on the table in front of Collins, Callen sat back down in his seat.

Collins picked up the cup and finished it off in a few quick gulps, "Thanks."

Callen noticed a small bandage under the other man's right shirt sleeve.

"What happened to your arm?" Sam asked.

Collins looked at his arm, "Oh this? My dog got a little too playful and accidently scratched me. Have to get his nails clipped."

Callen only nodded his head, "If we have any further questions, we'll contact you."

After Collins had left, Callen had the cup sent to the lab to be tested.

* * *

Two Days Later:

OPS:

It was lunchtime when the lab report came in. Nell put the findings into the computer to see what would come up. The computer went through thousands of faces that were on file until it had a match and a man's picture came up.

"This is Evan Parks age 35. He worked at a halfway house for the military in Seattle and seems to have dropped off the radar about six years ago." Nell said.

Evan Parks had an angular face with a hooked nose and mean looking black eyes that rested beneath thick straight brows. Greasy looking black hair hung to his shoulders.

Callen stepped up closer to the screen, "This guy looks familiar. Nell, bring up the rest of the pictures of the suspects that we have."

Nell brought up the pictures of Sean Walker, Earl Collins and Neal Munsey.

"Ok, let's alter Evan Parks face a little. Change the hair a little, more like this guy," Callen said pointing to a specific picture. "Ok, now the nose."

"Oh my G…" Kensi gasped as she saw the finished product.

Callen looked around the room. Jordan wasn't there. "Where's Jordan?" He asked as panic started to build.

"She said something about picking up something for lunch. She should have been back by now," Kensi said.

Eric used the computer to pick up the location of the car Jordan had been given to use. It was outside the diner not far from headquarters. They saw the car there. Replaying the tape footage, they saw Jordan come out with a bag of food. As she was about to open the door, someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her away from the camera view. The person was male and wearing a hoodie.

"Check her phone Mr. Beale. I gave her a new one that was tagged." Hetty said.

Eric went to work on the satellite feed.

Callen just hoped they got to her before it was too late.

* * *

Warehouse:

Jordan's eyes began to slowly open. _What the hell happened? _As her eyes began to focus she saw that she was in some room with a single floor lamp. She also saw that she was strapped down to some type of table. Her head still felt a little fuzzy. What had he given her?

Heavy footsteps echoed in the large room. Lifting her head she saw a figure coming closer to her. She gasped as she finally saw his face.

"Neal Munsey," she croaked.

He only looked down on her, his mouth twisted in an evil grin.

TBC.

Hope you liked this chapter. Please review, love hearing your comments. More to come soon.


	10. Chapter 10

Physician Heal Thyself Part 9

Warehouse: Room

"Sleeping beauty is awake." Munsey said, his voice chilling. "It's been a long time. Have to admit that it was a surprise when I saw you at the medical center that day. You haven't changed much; a little older maybe and your hair a tad longer. But, you're still the same smug bitch as before."

Jordan's hands were pinned down at her sides by leather restraints. Her ankles were pinned down also. "You have me at a disadvantage. Can't say I remember seeing you before then," she said, her hands struggling against the binds.

Munsey circled the table, "Would usually watch from the crowds and see you with the other investigators so you never saw me. I looked a bit different back then anyway, the wonders of plastic surgery." Munsey stopped moving and looked down on her again. He brought his hand to his right eye and removed the green tinted contact lens. He then did the same with the right eye revealing their inky black color.

Jordan quietly shuddered as she gazed into his face. In her years as a cop and in the FBI she'd faced many ruthless criminals. Neal Munsey's eyes were the most evil she'd ever encountered.

* * *

OPS:

"Ok guys, we've got something with the cell phone," Eric said as he pulled up the map of the Los Angeles area on the smart screen. "After he grabbed Agent Harris, he headed west and traveled about twenty minutes until he got to the old business district. That's where we lose the signal; nothing but a few abandoned warehouses." Eric said.

"Can we get anything with thermal imaging?" Callen asked.

"Working on it," Eric said.

"Do it fast!" Callen said turning his gaze to the others to signal them to follow him to the armory.

* * *

Warehouse:

"So it was you that broke into my hotel room," Jordan said, trying to keep Munsey talking.

"How, very astute of you, Agent Harris. Wish I could have seen your face when you saw my message on the wall."

Jordan licked her lips nervously, "I guess the only question now is why? Why kill all those sailors?"

Munsey's face darkened as his lips twisted into an ugly sneer, "THEY WERE ABOMINATIONS! THEY DIDN'T DESERVE TO HAVE THE HONOR OF BEING IN THE NAVY!" He turned away from her as if to compose himself.

"What did Annette Gallagher do?"

"Pathetic little fool. Crying to me about her abusive boyfriend. She was weak; the Navy is no place for weakness, just like dad said."

Jordan continued to pull against the restraints while his back was turned. "Why mutilate the eyes and tongue," Jordan said with a calmness she didn't feel.

"Cut out the tongues of liars and crush the eyes of those who refuse to see. "Munsey faced her again, his eyes looking unnaturally bright. "After I came back home from the navy, I started working at the military hospital for the staff counselor. Neil would counsel some of these losers at the hospital and the halfway house, but I knew which ones needed to be punished. When it was time to disappear I took the real Neal Munsey's identity and made a new life for myself."

Seeing her confused expression he continued, "My name's not Neil Munsey its Evan Parks. The real Neil Munsey got a job offer at the Medical Center in Los Angeles, too bad he never made it. We looked a bit similar in facial shape and mouth. All it took was changing my nose, getting green contacts and cutting; dying my hair and voila."

"Clever, but Walsh discovered the truth." Jordan said, feeling the restraint on her left wrist give just a little.

"An unfortunate development. Neil had served under Lt. Commander Fortmill and during a mission was injured. He was legally blind in one eye and had to wear corrective glasses to read. Walsh caught me reading small print without the glasses."

"Dan Franklin discovered the truth too?"

He gave a quick chuckle, "That numbskull thought it was Collins."

"You know they're looking for me. Stop this now. I will see that you get a fair trial," she said after a moment.

He stepped closer and put his face next to hers, "I should hope they're looking for you, that's why I left the tracking device that's on your phone intact until we got here. Once I dispatch of them, I'll take my time with you." Neil/Evan stood back up, "Maybe I'll kill your boyfriend Agent Callen first," and began to walk away.

A growing sense of horror began to build. _Callen!_ _They were going to walk into a trap!_

* * *

Callen and Sam sped toward the old business district in the NCIS van. Kensi and Deeks were sitting in the back seat.

"Something's wrong," Callen said.

"What?" Deeks said.

"This guy's been so careful with everything and now he's practically leading us to him."

"I was thinking the same thing. It might be some kind of trap," Sam replied, glancing briefly at his partner. Callen's face was expressionless, his focus on the view ahead.

"Jordan's alright G. She's tough," Sam said.

Callen said nothing, he just hoped what Sam just said was true.

Suddenly Nell's voice sounded in the agents' earwigs. "We found out some more information about this Evan Parks. His father was Lt. Grant Parks who was a decorated Vietnam vet. Evan followed in his father's footsteps and was in the Navy from 2003 until 2006. He was the leader of a special task force in Somalia. One day they'd gone into the village of Adad for patrol and were set upon by a rebel faction. Parks managed to escape and went into hiding, but all 15 members of that task force were tortured, killed and thrown into a shallow grave. Parks was discharged from the Navy with PSTD." Nell said. After a beat, she spoke again, "There's something else. He was a sharp shooter."

"Thanks Nell," Callen said, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

They pulled into the business district and parked alongside one of the storage units. They'd suited up before leaving headquarters. Putting on their helmets and getting their guns, they exited the van. With guns raised they walked and looked up for any signs of Parks.

"Guys! I have the thermal imaging," Eric's voice said, "From your position there are two figures in the warehouse two blocks down to your right. Both figures are alive.

Callen felt a rush of relief at the news.

* * *

Warehouse: Room

Jordan kept tugging at the restraint on her left wrist. _Come on! Come on!_ _I can't let them die! _With two more pulls, the restraint broke free.

* * *

Outside Warehouse:

Callen and Sam stood at each side of the door. Callen signaled to Deeks and Kensi to go around the building to find a back entrance. Slowly opening the door with his shield in front of him, he went inside. Sam waited a few seconds before going in, shield and gun raised.

Suddenly shots rang out from the top floor level of the warehouse. Callen dove to the left and got behind a tall, metal, filing cabinet. Sam dove to the right and squatted behind a metal desk.

Callen peered around the Cabinet and saw Parks at the railing on the second floor. He was behind a crate. Callen and Sam fired a few rounds at the top floor. More shots came from the top floor. Kensi and Deeks appeared and fired shots before going where Sam was. Callen saw the side door which led to the top level. The agents covered themselves as more shots were fired.

* * *

Top Floor:

Jordan peered around the corner to see Parks bent behind the crate reloading the mag clip of his gun. She had no gun of her own but she'd found a crow bar in the closet of that room. His back was turned to her. She crept up on him quietly and slowly; he rose up and fired the gun again, she brought the crowbar down on his arm causing him to howl in pain and drop his weapon. Kicking the gun out of the way she kicked him in the face.

He got up, his face a mask of fury as he lunged for her. She dove out of the way and made for the gun that was just beyond her reach. He grabbed her leg, causing her to fall. Pulling her back, he put his hands on her throat as to choke her. Grabbing his wrists, she brought her leg up between them; using her calf to push his shoulder back; her other hand pushed the thumb back of his hand that loosened its grip. He howled again in pain as she pushed him away. As she was about to get up again, he grabbed her and threw her against the metal crate where she was knocked out.

Parks turned and reached for the gun and aimed.

"Hey!" Callen growled out, pointing his own gun at Parks. Casting a quick glance at Jordan on the ground, "Drop the gun! It's all over!"

Parks turned hate filled eyes to Callen. Breathing heavily, he let out a guttural scream, turning his gun to Callen. Callen fired two shots into Park's chest. Parks gasped as he stumbled back; falling over the railing.

Callen ran to Jordan panicked but keeping his emotions in check, "Jordan!" He checked her over and felt her pulse which was weak but steady. He then felt a lump forming at the back of her head.

Sam came up behind him, "Is she alright?" he said, looking over the railing and seeing Park's body on the ground. Kensi and Deeks looked up, confirming that he was dead.

"Call the medic! She's unconscious!" Callen said.

* * *

Hospital:

The doctor came out to talk with the team in the waiting room.

"How is she, doctor?" Callen asked.

"She's awake and has a mild concussion, other than that she'll be fine. We want to keep her here overnight for observation." Dr. Connors said.

"Can we see her?" Callen asked.

"Yes, but don't stay too long. She needs to rest."

Callen opened the door to Jordan's room and entered with Sam, Kensi and Deeks following behind them.

"Hi guys," Jordan said with a weak smile.

"Hey," they all said, milling around the bed.

"How're you feeling?" Kensi asked.

"Other than a sore head, fine. Always knew my hard head would come in handy," she replied with a grin. After a moment, "Thanks for saving me," she said looking at each of them.

"Anytime," Callen replied.

"What happened with Munsey…Parks rather?" asked Jordan.

"He's dead," Sam said, casting his eyes on Callen.

"He had his gun on you and I told him to put his gun down, he wouldn't. He was about to fire at me so I shot him and he went over the railing," Callen said.

Jordan nodded her head, "So it's all over, finally."

"Yeah, it is. He won't hurt anyone else again," Deeks said.

"He was insane. You wouldn't believe the stuff he was saying," Jordan said.

"Don't think about that now. Just get some rest," Callen said and motioned to the others that they should leave. "You need anything?" Callen asked after the others had filed out.

"Something fit for human consumption and my book if you can." She laughed.

"I'll see what I can do," Callen smirked.

* * *

That evening:

Jordan was watching the news on the T.V. when the door to her room opened and Hetty Lange stepped inside.

"Hetty," she said, turning the volume of the T.V. down.

"Hello Miss. Harris," Hetty said, sitting on the chair by the bed. "How are you feeling, my dear?"

"Better, head is still a little achy. Should be able to leave here tomorrow."

"Good. Good." Hetty said.

Jordan noticed the file in the older woman's hands but said nothing.

"Director Vance is very pleased that the case is solved and I just spoke with your boss and he is pleased as well. I told him how well you worked with the NCIS team. It's rare when members of two agencies can work together so harmoniously. There have been times we've butted heads with an FBI agent or two. "

Jordan gave a light chuckle.

"I've watched you for the past few weeks. I can see why your employer speaks so highly of you. You're intelligent, resourceful, determined, fearless and perceptive. All the qualities I look for in an NCIS agent."

Jordan looked at Hetty, mouth agape, "Are you …?"

"You can start off as an FBI liaison with the Los Angeles office of the FBI. You would work primarily with NCIS. Then later if you want you can become a full NCIS agent," Hetty said, putting the file on Jordan's lap. "Whatever you decide; I think you'd make an excellent addition to the team." Hetty then stood up and left the room.

A minute later Callen came in to find Jordan looking a little shell shocked.

"You ok?" he asked, moving closer to set in the chair that Hetty just vacated.

Jordan glanced at him, seeing the bag and her book in his hand, "Hetty just left. She came by to see me." She said, looking at the bag again "What did you bring?"

"Chicken gyro sandwich," he answered, placing the bag and the book on the tray next to the bed.

"Yum! Saved my life again!" she grinned.

"Did Hetty say something to upset you?" Callen asked.

"No. She just surprised me. I got a job offer. An FBI liaison with the L.A. FBI, but I'd be working mostly with NCIS."

"Wow," Callen said.

"That a good wow or a bad wow?" She asked.

"Not a bad one," he said.

"Think you could stand having me at work every day?" She grinned.

"I could think of worse things," he smirked. "Sounds like you made up your mind."

"Have to admit, I'm starting to love L.A. Maybe it's time for a change." Jordan said.

* * *

"You want to have dinner sometime?" Callen asked after a brief silence.

Jordan looked at him, "You mean like a…?" she said, her heart racing a little.

"Yeah," he said hoping she'd say yes.

"Sure. But, if I take the job…"

"Just keep it out of the office and just between us. Just take things one step at a time," he said.

"Sounds good," she said, opening the folder and reading the contents.

* * *

OSP:

Callen saw Hetty at her desk as he entered the bullpen that evening.

"You're back, Mr. Callen." She remarked as he sat in the chair in front of the desk.

"You're burning the midnight oil." He smirked.

"Is there something you wanted?" she asked, pouring herself some tea.

"I'm curious. Why pick another agent and why Jordan Harris?"

"I felt that she'd make an excellent member of the team and she'd worked well with us during that case. Also she has many talents and would add something beneficial to the group." Hetty replied, sipping her tea. "As team leader, would you have a problem having Miss Harris as a member of NCIS?"

"Not at all," Callen said.

"Very good," Hetty said in a tone that said the conversation was over.

"Goodnight Hetty," Callen said, getting up from his seat to leave.

"Goodnight Mr. Callen," Hetty said, watching Callen leave OSP headquarters. "Yes. I think Jordan Harris would be good for us all."


	11. Chapter 11

Epilogue:

Two months later:

Jordan's apartment: Kitchen

Jordan poured the popcorn from the popcorn maker into the large bowl. She then went to the refrigerator and got two bottles of beer. Closing the door she saw the plaque 'physician heal thyself' that Dr. Hoffman had given her before Jordan had left Seattle. She smiled; thinking about how much had changed since that first day in Hoffman's office.

Taking the bottles and the bowl out of the kitchen and into the living room; she set the items on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to Callen. They'd been seeing each other for about two months and so far so good. They were taking things slow.

Sam wanted Callen to dress as Professor Remus Lupin for his daughter's Harry Potter themed birthday party. Deeks and Kensi were going as Hermione and Ron. Jordan, who was surprised by the invite, was going as Professor McGonagall.

"Ok, explain this Lupin guy to me," Callen said.

Jordan turned on the DVD player to start the movie Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban. "He appears for the first time in this movie."

"I can't believe you have all the Harry Potter movies," Callen said.

"My nephew loves Harry Potter so I have them here for when he visits," she said, seeing his raised eyebrow she continued, "OK, I like the movies too, hush!" she finished with mock indignation that was marred by her own smile as he laughed.

"You read the books too?" he asked.

"Yes," causing him to laugh again which earned him a swat on the shoulder. "Fine, laugh all you want. Still think it was nice of you to agree to be Lupin for Sam's daughter."

"Yeah, just make a fool of myself for an hour," Callen said.

Jordan placed a soft kiss on his lips, "You'll be fine and probably enjoy yourself."

Callen didn't look too sure.

The movie started and by the end of it Callen was hooked.

The end.

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. I plan to write more Callen and Jordan stories. My next one will be lighter after this dark one. Please review, I welcome your comments. It will help me be a better writer.


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